Consuming Direct Control
by Hyliian
Summary: With nothing left for him in the galaxy but empty space and idle time, Alex Mercer finds himself recruited in Commander Shepard's fight against the Collectors. On hiatus. See Ch. 44 for details.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_This'll be my first time writing anything that takes place in the Mass Effect universe, so should be interesting. As usual, I don't own a single thing except the air I breathe, and even THAT might be property of the US goverment eventually. I nerded out a bit and made this whole timeline of ME and [Prototype], but figured anyone who's reading this has played at least one of the games and should know the basics well enough. I'm pretending like the events of [Prototype2] never took place, so don't expect any Heller cameos. _

_We now return you to your originally scheduled program._

* * *

Alex Mercer had been around long enough to be able to tell the difference between bravery and stupidity. The group of Blue Suns mercs currently unloading assault rifle clips into his torso fell into the latter category. If they had walked up and asked him nicely, he might have been willing to let them off with a warning rather than the ritual dismemberment he was about to unleash. But very few people actually bothered to try _talking_ before sniping him in the head or attempting to riddle him with holes. He'd had a lifetime—_several_ lifetimes—of fighting as it was, and he was eager to give diplomacy a go if only the rest of the galaxy would stop being so _retarded_.

He waited for a lull in the barrage of gunfire before letting his left arm reform into a massive blade and leapt at them, startling several into shouting and scrambling away. Cutting through their armor wasn't any more difficult than hacking away at tanks had been back in the day—_man that made him sound so _old_—_and soon he stood surrounded by a ring of slaughtered turians and humans. One of them twitched spasmodically and Alex broke his back with his heel, letting the tendrils rip him apart and consume him to fix what little they had managed to injure during their assault.

Alex sighed. Now he was going to have to relocate. _Again._ No matter how far he ran, or how well he hid, someone _always_ managed to find him and then this would happen. The first few decades had been incredibly irritating, and he'd more than happily struck back at the numerous organizations hoping to get a piece of the infamous Monster of Manhattan. Now, though, it was just mildly annoying, like a fly you just can't manage to hit no matter how much you flail at it.

Cerberus was just the most recent in a long line of antagonists trying to either take him down or bring him in. He wasn't very surprised. Honestly he was shocked it had taken the pro-human group this long to come after him. He'd slipped through enough security checkpoints and consumed enough civilians and military personal to have amassed a hoard of knowledge that put the Shadow Broker to shame.

Not that he really had a use for any of it anymore.

Alex stepped out of the ring of carnage and headed back to his apartment, already sorting through what he'd need to take with him (nothing), where he should go (anywhere but here), and what to do once he got there (anything). Life had gotten incredibly boring over the past two centuries. There wasn't much short of an ATLAS or a bunch of MAKOs that gave him pause anymore, and he'd been to most of the planets and cities worth visiting already.

Thessia had been his favorite so far. The asari fascinated him; he'd asked a few of the more sociable ones how they dealt with living such long lives, but the answers they'd given him pertained to amassing as much knowledge as they could and then passing it on for future generations.

Well. For one, Alex already had enough knowledge via the myriads of races and species he'd consumed to rival the oldest Asari Matriarch, and for two, Alex did not plan on having any 'future generations' to pass any of it down to. He wasn't sure if that was physically possible, considering he was no longer even remotely human, and had no inclination to find out. The last thing the galaxy needed was another Greene running around infecting everything and babbling about MOTHERs and PARIAHs.

Maybe it was time to head back to Earth. He'd been gone for so long; it would be interesting to see how it'd changed. He doubted Blackwatch was _still_ on the lookout for him, if they even still existed, but there wasn't anything there for him anymore. Dana and Dr. Ragland had long since passed away, along with anyone else he could have considered an acquaintance.

The only thing left for him on Earth was bad memories. _Lots_ of them.

The Citadel, then. He'd spent some time there a few decades back; it had been too crowded, too busy for his tastes—so to speak. But it was a good place to meet interesting people, and that was just about all that kept him sane nowadays: meeting interesting people. Alex sighed again and headed towards the nearest spaceport, pulling the consumed merc's form over his own like a second skin.

* * *

_**Dossier: ZEUS**_

_Codename ZEUS; Name Unknown_

_-Possible shapeshifter_

_-Abilities unknown_

_Data pertaining to ZEUS is sporadic at best. At its heart is a cluster of ancient encrypted files dating back to the early 21__st__ century, surrounded by rumors and one of the best military cover-ups in human history. He is nearly impossible to track, keeping his movements erratic and utterly unpredictable, and seems to be able to bypass any security system created to date. He was last seen on Cailloux, although evidence suggests he may have relocated to the Citadel. Approach with extreme caution._

* * *

Shepard frowned at her personal terminal, drumming her fingers on the surface nearby. This did not seem like the kind of thing the Illusive Man would have forwarded to her; there was almost no information in it at all other than speculation and rumor, and there wasn't even a solid location listed. She almost discarded the dossier as too much work when something stopped her. _"Possible shapeshifter."_ What did that even _mean?_ How could someone be a _possible_ shapeshifter? It certainly _sounded_ interesting. It might be worth checking out, just on the off chance this ZEUS character was someone who could be of some use against the Collectors.

She frowned again as she reread the short email Cerberus had deemed fit to send her. The 21st century? That had to be a joke. Unless the Illusive Man had sent her to recruit a _skeleton_, it was probably just misinformation.

"Joker," she called, "set a course for the Citadel."

"Aye, Commander."

Shepard paused and then headed for the elevator that would take her up to her cabin. She had some research to do.

* * *

_By the way, in case you weren't aware, Shepard is "29" when the events of Mass Effect 2 take place. I say "29" because TECHNICALLY she's 31, but since she was dead for two years I figure those don't count. Alex is 206 when the events of Mass Effect 2 occur._


	2. Chapter 2

The Citadel was just as chaotic as it had been all those years ago when he'd drifted into port on a 'borrowed' batarian slave vessel. Idly, Alex wondered what C-Sec had done with that ship after he'd disembarked and left it there unmanned. The first thing he noticed was the increased security at the docks; seems they'd installed some kind of fancy scanner after that attack two years ago.

He'd only found out about it through the roundabout collective memories of a group of thugs who'd made the mistake of cornering him in a dark alley, although the level of construction he could see going on did not match the story the kids' minds had shown him. The battle must have been worse than he'd thought.

Alex paused and leaned nonchalantly against the wall as he considered how to get past that security scanner. He couldn't walk through as Alex Mercer, seeing as how he wasn't listed and was technically _dead_. Would it even be able to read him as a living thing at all? How did technology react to a walking virus?

With a shrug, he pulled on the form of the human merc he'd used to get this far, sans armor. Walking around in that Blue Suns getup was just asking for trouble that he didn't want. He slipped into the line waiting for entrance and let his mind wander until it was his turn to stand beneath the whirring blue light and its scanners, and he had to repress a smirk when the scanner stuttered and struggled to comprehend what it was sensing.

After a brief hiccup where the turian officer pounded on his terminal as if that would fix the problem, it flashed blue briefly and the guard waved him through.

"Welcome to the Citadel, Mr. Brown."

Alex smiled and strode into the Citadel, inhaling the various aromas of the shops nearby. He decided he'd keep Jackson Brown's face for now, seeing as how his own tended to turn heads, and slipped into the crowd as if he'd never been.

* * *

Shepard sighed and ran a hand over her face as the turian guard sheepishly asked her to check in with his captain. Apparently the machine thought she was dead. _Technically_ she _had_ been listed as KIA a few years back, but still. The Illusive Man's cryptic dossier kept running through her head, and she was woman enough to admit to being paranoid about it. Someone with ZEUS's lack of background could possibly be Spectre level, after all, and the last thing Shepard wanted to do was get into a fight with another Spectre. So, obviously, she'd guilted Garrus and Grunt into accompanying her, since they were her muscle.

She put her hands on her hips as she paused at the crossroads, wondering where a man like ZEUS might be hanging out. If he was even here at all, that is. She sent Grunt and Garrus to search the other levels and ducked into the nearby souvenir shop. Might as well see if they had any new model ships in while she was here, right?

* * *

Three model ships, two fish, an endorsement, and about 8000 credits later, Shepard was ready to continue the search. She was relatively certain the salarian in the corner and the asari behind the counter were _not_ ZEUS, so she felt confident enough to rule out the souvenir shop as a possible location.

The only other store of any note on this level was the café across the way. There were a few people milling around the tables set up there, but none of them stood out as potential recruits worthy of being named after an ancient Greek god. By now Garrus was back, although Grunt had probably gotten distracted by one of the arms dealers up a floor, and Shepard sighed.

"Any idea what we're looking for, Garrus?"

The turian twitched and shrugged helplessly. "Your guess is as good as mine, Shepard. The dossier you showed us was uselessly vague."

She grunted an affirmative and headed for the café. Sometimes it was best to just ask around, see if anyone had seen anything out of the ordinary. Captain Bailey had even given her a list of human males who had entered the Citadel recently, although it was far too long to be of much use.

Davis Tartholis, Jackson Brown, Harry Simes… Shepard rubbed her face with an armored hand and slumped her shoulders. Suddenly Garrus nudged her in the side and she tensed, immediately on alert.

"Eight o'clock, Shepard," Garrus murmured as he pretended to be interested in what the Avina terminal was going on about.

Shepard glanced in that direction and saw him immediately. He was alone at one of the tables at the café with a glass of something in front of him. He didn't _look_ like a ZEUS. Shaggy blond hair, green eyes, medium build… nothing to look at. But he was staring right at her, and being rather obvious about it. It was always possible he was just a fan like Conrad Verner, but there was something in the way he was watching them, almost as if he was _hunting_ them.

"Should we go say hello?" Shepard muttered back, keeping her eyes on the news playing on a nearby wall. She could almost feel Garrus shrug.

"Worth a shot."

Shepard took a breath and headed in his direction without delay. No point dancing around the subject, since he'd been busy boring holes in her side for who knows how long before Garrus had spotted him. When he saw her approaching, the expression on his face changed so swiftly she had to doubt if she'd even seen it. Suddenly, he was just a curious bystander watching a woman approach him in a very military manner. Shepard began to feel incredibly awkward. What if it was just some guy who'd been checking out her ass? Wouldn't _that_ be embarrassing.

"Commander Shepard," the man greeted her in a surprisingly friendly voice, gesturing to the seat across from him. She sat immediately, and spotted Garrus hovering nearby unobtrusively. "The Hero of the Citadel herself! I thought you were dead."

"I get that a lot," Shepard replied dryly, trying to resist the urge to fidget. He seemed so… _normal._ "I couldn't help but notice you were staring at me."

"Unless I'm mistaken, it was your turian friend who caught me staring, not you."

Shepard bristled but let it slide. He was just human; no reason to feel like a cornered animal. "Let's cut to the chase. Are you ZEUS?"

She had been trained to catch the slightest twitch in a person's posture, to read body language like instinct. It was the only reason she caught the infinitesimal tense in his posture before it relaxed immediately. But it had been there. _Got you._

The blond man glanced around the café, gaze going unerringly to one of the security cameras hidden in a corner, and nodded his head off to one side. "This is a conversation best had elsewhere. People remember the most obscure things."

Shepard frowned. That had sounded eerily like personal experience. But she nodded and stood, watching the way he moved for any hint as to his background. It was smooth and careless, and she was suddenly reminded of the way the mercenaries would act when they thought they had the upper hand. Cocky. Arrogant.

_No. Surely the Illusive Man didn't send me after a _mercenary.

She followed him off around a corner and motioned for Garrus to keep his distance but stay in sight. She wasn't stupid enough to follow a potential enemy into a dark alley without any kind of backup. Tactics like that would get her killed in a heartbeat.

He turned smoothly to face her, expression as blank and neutral as she'd ever seen, even on an elcor. She half expected him to blurt out his emotional state before he started speaking. "So who sent you? Terra firma? The Shadow Broker? Cerberus?" She must have made some kind of expression, because he smirked. "Cerberus. I wondered when they'd finally send someone after me."

"I don't work for Cerberus, they work for _me_," Shepard insisted, eyes hard. "I hold no love for Cerberus and their methods, but I need them. And they sent me a dossier on a man named ZEUS, so here I am."

ZEUS raised a brow in clear disbelief. "They sent you a _dossier?_ Is this some kind of joke?"

Shepard handed over the datapad with the short summary on it and watched as he read it over, his smirk growing the more he read. Somewhere near the end his smirk crashed and his brow furrowed.

"They knew I was on Cailloux," he murmured, scowling. The expression looked odd on his youthful face. "Bastards must have had helm cams…"

"I'm recruiting for an important mission," Shepard barreled on. Sometimes being blunt was the best way to get her point across. "The Collectors are abducting entire human colonies, and we intend to stop them."

"Why should I care about what happens to the colonies?" ZEUS replied in a bland voice, handing her datapad back. "They never cared about _me_."

"Cerberus found you. One of my crew managed to pick you out of a crowd. If you help us, I can make it so Cerberus _can't_ find you again." She was lying through her teeth, but something told her appealing to his sense of honor would get her nowhere. She had always been good at reading people. "I'm a Council Spectre. We're good at making people disappear."

The man stared hard into her eyes, never blinking. Finally, he sighed and folded his arms, looking exasperated. "Well, I guess it beats sitting around here waiting for something interesting to happen. Where do I sign?"

Shepard snorted. "The SSV Normandy is in the docking hangar. Report there in fifteen and we'll get you set up."

ZEUS shrugged before nodding once, and brushed past her in such a way that made it seem as if touching her would have been physically painful. She turned to watch him go and couldn't help but laugh when he paused to smirk at Garrus before vanishing into the crowd. Shepard had no idea who the man was, but if the Illusive Man thought he was worth it, that would have to be enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Alex couldn't help but be grudgingly impressed when he first stepped onto the Normandy. He'd been on plenty of warships and frigates over the years, but this was a class all to itself. He'd managed to beat Shepard and her guard dogs here, and hadn't really expected to be allowed on the ship. She must have called ahead to let them know he was coming.

As he stepped out of the airlock and onto the bridge, he flinched back when klaxons started going off along with some kind of warning about foreign contaminents. Once he heard the message, he couldn't help but bark a laugh. The ship was concerned about a foreign virus onboard. Oh delicious irony.

"Hello," a perky young woman materialized at his side and Alex just barely resisted his gut urge to dig his claws into her chest. _No one_ sneaks up on Alex Mercer. She must have seen something on his face because she took a step back and pressed her datapad to her chest protectively. "Commander Shepard told us to expect you. Are you ZEUS?"

Alex twitched. He still hated being called that. "My name is Alex," he corrected her, almost growling. "Not _ZEUS_." He'd discarded Jackson Brown's form a while back, and glared down at the perky woman from beneath his grey hood.

"Yeoman Kelly Chambers; it's a pleasure to meet you!" she beamed. He couldn't help but blink at her. She really did think it was a pleasure to meet him.

He hated her already.

He wondered if she'd taste like cotton candy. The predatory grin made her take another step back, and her smile faltered.

"E-EDI will show you to your room, Alex," Kelly squeaked before quickly distancing herself and returning to her post.

"EDI?" Alex repeated, confused, before a glowing ball appeared nearby and he swore.

"Enhanced Defense Intelligence," the synthesized, and oddly feminine, voice informed him patiently, "I am the Normandy's Artificial Intelligence. Welcome aboard, Mr. Mercer."

Alex tensed. "How did you know that name?"

"While you were conversing with Yeoman Chambers, I took the liberty of searching for correlated files pertaining to 'ZEUS' and 'Alex.' Mercer was the one surname the two had in common. Was I mistaken?"

Alex snarled. "No. Just keep it to yourself."

"As you wish, Alex."

Alex eyed the blue orb with interest. He'd never met a real AI before, seeing as how they were supposed to be illegal. Or something. He didn't really keep up with all the laws, seeing as how he couldn't care less if he broke them. "So you're an AI, huh?"

"That is correct."

"All right then. Chambers said something about a room?"

"Yes. There are several areas of the ship that are currently uninhabited. Do you have a preference?"

Alex considered it. He'd never been _asked_ what he wanted before. He decided he liked it. "Somewhere isolated. Preferably dark. I don't like to be disturbed."

"The starboard cargo hold on the Engineering Deck is rather separate from the rest of the ship. It also tends to be slightly less illuminated than the upper levels."

Alex smiled at the floating ball. If only humans had been this helpful, he might not have had to consume all of them. "Thanks, EDI."

"Of course, Alex. Do you require directions?"

* * *

Shepard was exhausted by the time she finally made it back onto the Normandy. It seemed like everyone and their sister needed something accomplished, and the instant she was recognized she became the one who had to do it. She hoped ZEUS had made it onboard without any problems, and as she pulled off her armor and put on her more casual clothes she decided to find out.

"EDI, did ZEUS arrive yet?"

"Yes, Shepard. Alex came on deck one hour and fifteen minutes ago. I directed him to the starboard port cargo bay on the Engineering Deck."

Shepard paused in pulling on her jacket. "Alex?"

"That is correct, Shepard."

"His name is Alex?" Shepard repeated. It had never even occurred to her to ask the man's name. She felt like an idiot.

"That is correct."

"I feel like an ass. I never even asked the man his _name_. What kind of Commander am I?"

"I believe you are a Commander of the Alliance Navy, Shepard. Was that a rhetorical question?"

"Yes, EDI. It was a rhetorical question."

"I apologize."

Shepard waved her off and sighed. "I should probably go make sure he's settling in all right. Did he have much to carry in?"

"Alex brought nothing aboard, Shepard."

Shepard paused halfway to the door. "Really? Nothing at all?"

"Unless he was hiding it somewhere on his person, then yes. Really."

She hesitated. "Did he even have a _weapon?_" Granted, Shepard would buy the man a gun if he needed one, but she'd expected someone Cerberus sent her after to at least have a preferred weapon on him.

"No, Shepard. When questioned, Alex replied with 'I am a weapon.' I believe he was being sarcastic."

_Possible shapeshifter._ "He might not have been. I'm going to go down and check on him; let him know I'm coming."

"Logging you out, Shepard."

* * *

Alex was pleasantly surprised to find the cargo bay already partly furnished. There was a chair and a few desks, along with what looked like security feeds from various hallways on the ship. Sure there was a garbage disposal near the back of the room, but it was nothing compared to the streets of Manhattan.

He glanced up as the blue ball flickered to life near the doorway. "Commander Shepard is on her way down, Alex."

"All right. Thanks for the warning."

"Of course, Alex. The Commander seemed concerned when she learned you had brought no luggage onboard with you."

Alex just shrugged, not really sure if EDI could see him or not. That response was acceptable, since the floating sphere winked out shortly afterwards and left Alex to his own devices. He leaned back in the chair and couldn't help but be amused. He'd gone to the Citadel hoping to meet someone interesting, and winded up recruited on some kind of suicide mission with Commander Shepard herself. Maybe his luck was finally starting to turn around.

He didn't bother to stand when the door whirred open and Shepard stepped in, blinking in the dimly lit room. She turned to face him and tensed, and Alex idly remembered that when she'd met him, he'd been wearing the face of someone else.

She composed herself quickly enough, to her credit, and straightened. "Everything all right, Alex?"

"We're on a first name basis now, Commander?" Alex smirked as she hesitated, unsure how to proceed. "Yes. Everything is going _fabulously_. I met this disgustingly perky woman on the main deck. Chambers. But besides that, nothing's out of the ordinary."

He saw Shepard's lip twitch into a slight smile at the mention of Chambers, before she schooled her expression again. "EDI tells me you didn't bring anything on board. No weapons, no clothes… do you need anything?"

"You really don't know anything about me, do you?" Alex asked, both amused and annoyed. He didn't want to be _looked after_ like a pet you keep in your basement. "I bet you didn't even know my name until someone told you."

Her guilty flinch was all the answer he needed.

"Read a book, Commander. You might learn something."

He smirked at the sound of the door closing and angry heels on tile.


	4. Chapter 4

It only took Alex a single day to figure out the crew was nervous around him. The krogan in the other cargo bay couldn't care less about his existence, but everyone else looked at him like a walking time bomb. It was rather humorous, he thought, since none of them had even seen him in action yet.

He wouldn't be surprised if he ended up spaced the first time he had to show off his blade.

Alex wandered the decks, trying to pass the time until Shepard needed him for something or worked her foot far enough out of her mouth to ask a useful question. Eventually he found himself up near the cockpit with the pilot he'd never bothered to meet.

He stepped up nearby, eyes flicking over the numerous controls, while all the pilots he'd consumed began informing him what they all were and how to use them. He doubted he could actually _fly_ this ship with any modicum of success, but he could probably land it without breaking it in half.

"Shit!" the pilot jerked in place, swiveling to stare up at Alex as if he'd never seen a man in a hoodie before in his life. "Don't sneak up on me like that! Give me a heart attack why don't you…"

Alex smirked from beneath his hood. "I could try harder, if you like."

"Nah, that's okay. The Commander keeps me on my toes enough as is. Don't need our resident mystery man helping matters any." The man swiveled his chair towards Alex and offered a hand. Alex took it and the man swore again, jerking back. "_Shit._ That's, uh, some grip you've got there. Easy on the Vrolik's kid, all right?"

_Their pilot has Vrolik's?_ Alex frowned. "Sorry. I'll be more careful." _Don't want to break the only man who can fly this thing. I'd hate to have to consume him in order to save the day. _

The man eyed him before relaxing again. "You can call me Joker. Everyone does."

"Not for your sparkling personality, I hope."

"Oh I know, right? I'm just a bundle of joy and sunshine on a cloudy day." Joker rolled his eyes and turned back to all the lights and complicated displays glowing faintly in front of him. "You're… Alex. Right?"

"Yes." Alex raised a brow at the pedestal to his left that he recognized as one of EDI's terminals. "You have the AI plugged right in to your helm?"

Joker scowled. "Shhh! I can tell… when it's _listening_," he hissed.

"I am always listening, Mr. Moreau."

"I _know_," Joker groaned, pointedly not looking at the blue ball hovering nearby. "Thing's like my mom, or something…" When Alex made no move to step away, Joker flicked his eyes over to him. "So you here for something in particular, or should I get up and dance? Granted, that dance would most likely involve two broken legs and a lot of screaming, but still."

"My favorite kind," Alex smirked. "I was just trying to find something to do until Shepard works up the nerve to approach me again."

"Yeah, I heard about your little showdown in the cargo bay," Joker continued as his fingers flew across the console. "You have a death wish or something? You _do_ know who she is, right? Hero of the Citadel? The only person to have faced a Reaper and lived? The first human Spectre? I mean the list goes on."

"I know exactly who she is," Alex growled. "She's the one who doesn't know who she's dealing with."

"Whoa, down boy," Joker chuckled. "Try not to drool on my baby," he patted the Normandy's helm affectionately. "If you're looking for something to do, go challenge Grunt to a wrestling match or bug Garrus while he's calibrating. _That_ never gets old."

Alex shook his head and turned to head down the deck towards the elevator. He supposed Grunt might be mildly challenging, and he could use the combat practice.

"Yeah, well, see ya!" Joker called over his shoulder.

Alex just laughed in reply.

* * *

Shepard leaned on the back of Joker's chair while she looked out the window. Getting answers out of Alex was like trying to fit a hanar through a pinhole. Impossible. The crew had been utterly unhelpful when she'd asked their opinions on the newest crewmember.

Garrus hadn't really spoken to him yet, but did manage to sound cryptic and ominous when he said the man was more than he seemed. Grunt had laughed and said something about him being a great warrior "for a human." Apparently they'd had some kind of fight in the cargo hold and scared the living daylights out of Gabriella and Donnely in the Drive Core. Mordin had gone on and on and _on_ about something about… diseases and secret tests on his cell structure. She hadn't bothered to ask how he'd managed to pull something like that off, and just told him to keep her posted. She'd never seen him so worked up. _Like a hamster on coffee._

Joker, though. Joker had actually had a full conversation with the man, making him the only person on the ship besides EDI to have gotten a real answer out of him.

"So what do you think of the people we're picking up?" Shepard asked nonchalantly, trying to sound innocent.

"You're fishing for info on Alex, aren't you?"

"Who? Me? Never!"

Joker just snorted. "Honestly, Commander? The guy freaks me the hell out. He just… _stands there_. Watching. Like he's trying to decide the best way to kill you and eat your brains or something. Nice sense of humor, though. It's buried beneath a mile of brooding and scowling, but it's there."

Shepard opened her mouth to respond when Joker continued.

"And he's got a hell of a grip, Commander. Don't shake hands with him. I mean it. Almost snapped my wrist clean off. Beyond that, you'd have to ask a people person. But it's just my opinion; there's no need to go spreading it around." He paused. "Seriously. Don't spread it around."

Shepard stepped back and turned to the side. "EDI? Your thoughts?"

"Alex seems like a perfectly reasonable individual. He has been far more accepting of my presence onboard the Normandy than the rest of the crew."

"Did you learn anything about him through those searches I asked you to do?"

"Negative, Shepard. The files were beyond even my ability to recover. I did manage to find a news report on an incident two hundred years ago that refers to a 'ZEUS,' but beyond that, nothing. It is as if he simply does not exist."

Shepard paused. "EDI, are there any cameras in Grunt's room? I don't care if I'm not supposed to know about them; this is important."

A pause. It was only a few seconds, but that might as well have been a lifetime for EDI. "Affirmative, Shepard."

"Could you see if Grunt and Alex interacted in any way? Grunt seems to think he's a capable warrior, and I've never even seen him _fight_."

"One moment."

Joker leaned back and craned his neck to look at the footage that appeared on one of the displays as Shepard furrowed her brow.

"Is there audio?"

"No, Shepard."

Shepard fell silent as she watched. Alex was standing at ease near Grunt, hands in his pockets, as the krogan stared at him with what amounted to his form of disbelief. Then Grunt laughed and Alex grinned, taking his hands from his pockets.

They watched as the two took defensive positions, and then the silence seemed deafening because what Alex was doing was _not possible._

Shepard and Joker watched, wide-eyed, as Alex gave Grunt's ass to him on a silver platter using _only his bare hands._ It was like watching a movie, only it was over in a matter of moments. Grunt shook himself off and growled something, and then _claws_ grew from Alex's arms like that old movie Edward Scissorhands or Freddy Krueger and _picked Grunt off the ground_ and _threw him_ like a ragdoll.

A few minutes later, Grunt slapped Alex on the back with force that would have sent anyone else to the ground, but didn't even stagger him, and the man left the same way he'd come.

"Commander," Joker broke in, loud in the silence, "did that really happen? This isn't just EDI's idea of a joke?"

"That was not a joke, Mr. Moreau. This conflict took place earlier in the afternoon, shortly after Alex visited you at the helm. I believe he took your suggestion to 'challenge Grunt to a wrestling match' quite literally."

"No shit, EDI," Joker bit back, annoyed.

Shepard blinked. "I… need to go speak with Alex. Now."

"Good luck, Commander," Joker called over his shoulder, then muttered under his breath "I'd really hate to be you."

* * *

**A/N: **_This was my first time trying to write EDI or Joker IC, so I hope I pulled it off all right. Maybe I should have practiced some regular ME before trying to combine it with something else... oh well!_


	5. Chapter 5

Shepard was a big girl. She'd fought Geth, detonated a nuclear bomb on Virmire, interacted with Vigil and Sovereign, had Prothean beacons burned into her head, _died and been resurrected_, and shot at by more mercenaries than she even knew existed. So she was not ashamed to admit that instead of heading down to confront Alex about his display in Grunt's cargo bay, she'd brought up the Galaxy Map and plotted a course for Purgatory. There was a prisoner stored in cryo she'd been pointed towards, and she hoped she could see Alex's abilities firsthand if she dragged him along for the ride.

She sent out messages to Garrus and Alex to get suited up and ready to move out; they had a prison ship to visit.

* * *

Garrus arrived first, armed with his sniper rifle and charred blue armor, and Shepard sighed as she waited for Alex to grace her with his presence.

"You sure about bringing along the new guy?" Garrus asked her to break the mounting silence. "Does he even have any armor?"

Shepard shrugged. "I doubt I'd get a straight answer out of him if I asked; at least this way we can see what he's capable of." She considered telling Garrus about the fight she'd seen between ZEUS and Grunt, but decided against it. If Alex had wanted that to be common knowledge, he wouldn't have held the match in a locked cargo room.

When Alex rounded the corner, hands in his pockets and hood covering the top half of his face, Shepard felt a chill crawl up her spine. Something about the man was just… off. Like he was a rabid wolf disguised as a house pet, ready to snap at the lightest provocation. He _radiated_ hostility, even when he was just standing there.

The man creeped her out, and it took a lot to creep Commander Jane Shepard out.

"No armor, Alex?" Shepard managed, proud of how firm her voice was. Alex cocked his head to the side and Shepard's jaw fell as his skin _rippled_ and _pulsed_, and what looked like _tendrils_ swarmed across him and then…

…then he stood there covered from head to toe in strange, black, organic armor. He looked eerily like a Collector, and she just barely resisted the urge to shiver.

"Well that was freaky," Garrus pointed out bluntly, turning and heading for the airlock. Shepard had to agree.

What had she invited onto her ship?

* * *

Alex eyed the smooth, sterile walls of Purgatory as they followed the warden down the hall. His armor lacked a visor, but he didn't need one to see since the armor was a _part_ of him. Shepard had thrust a heavy pistol into his hands and grated out something about wanting her crew to stay armed, just in case, and he'd accepted it without bothering to point out that his brand of fighting was more suited to getting up close and personal.

As soon as his fingers had closed around the foreign weapon, memories flooded through him and he just _knew_ how to fire it. He adjusted his grip appropriately and saw Shepard eye the new stance with approval; Alex just ignored her. He wasn't here to impress her. He was here to kill shit and make sure it stayed dead.

The warden—he hadn't paid attention to the turian's name—was obviously lying through his teeth. The way he watched Shepard and how he eyed his own armored form… Alex stiffened and had to actively suppress the urge to rise to the challenge in the alien's eyes. He did have to admit that the prison was impressive. The cryogenic storage was unnerving, to a point; he did not want to test his body's ability to resist such a thing, and eyed the containers through the thick glass warily.

Alex watched as Shepard talked some guards out of beating a defenseless prisoner, and wondered at it. That hadn't gained her anything; she didn't know the man behind the glass. Why had she stood up for him? No one did anything for free. Alex pondered that as they entered 'Out-processing,' which was _obviously_ a trap. Large sterile rooms did not tend to be what they looked like at first glance.

Plus, there were too many desks that could be used as cover. No one designed rooms like this without gunfire in mind. But he followed after her, tense as a bowstring, his grip on the pistol hard enough to make the metal creak dangerously. Garrus eyed the dented metal but said nothing, fortunately, as the turian warden came over the loudspeakers.

Alex was not surprised.

"Sorry, Shepard. But you and ZEUS are simply more valuable as prisoners. Step into the room and you won't be harmed."

Alex bristled. "The hell?" he snapped, whirling towards the opposite door. That scientist he'd seen when they first walked in was long gone. He knew he should have just eaten the man when he'd had the chance. "Like shit I'm getting in that room."

"Don't make this complicated, ZEUS."

Alex watched as men began to file in, assault rifles aimed in their direction. Alex snarled, clenching his fist and crushing the pistol in the process. Oops. Guess he was going to do this the fun, messy way. He was _not_ about to let himself get captured. He'd spent the past two hundred damn _years_ avoiding this very thing.

Shepard and Garrus ceased to matter, and Alex let his arms reshape themselves into the deadly claws, idly hearing his companions swear behind him. Let them think what they will.

These idiots weren't taking him alive.

Not if he could help it.

* * *

Shepard could only stare at the lethal claws replacing Alex's hands and fingers, and then at the obliterated heavy pistol he'd crushed in his grip moments before and tossed aside. Mentally she was berating herself for walking into such an obvious trap, but physically she was rooted in place. Seeing those claws over a video monitor was one thing. Having them sprout from your crewman's arms like something out of a horror vid while he slid into what could only be considered a predatory stance was something else entirely.

She rolled behind the nearest desk and lined up a shot with her sniper rifle, blowing the nearest merc's head clean off. Garrus repeated the procedure from the other side of the room, but Alex simply stood there. She barely had time to shout out a warning before the mercs opened fire and she prepared herself to apply all the medi-gel she had on her newest companion.

Except Alex never fell. He stood silent amidst the chaos, the rounds glancing off that organic armor of his harmlessly. The few heavy rounds punched through, but even those only made him jerk in place without so much as a sound. When the room fell silent and Alex still stood, she chanced a look around the corner of the desk at the dumbfounded mercenaries.

Then Alex spoke, and it was like listening to the toll of a death knell. "My turn."

* * *

Mercy had never been an attribute Alex put stock in. It was an indication of weakness, of an inability to defend oneself from an obvious threat. Regret, too, was something he had shed as easily as his outer skin the day he'd learned he was not human. These were his prey, nothing more, and they had _dared_ to fight back against the inevitable.

He leapt into their group like a terrier among rats, ripping them apart, heedless of the armor or blows glancing off his reinforced skin. _This_ was what he was made for. _This_ was what he was _born_ to do. He was _good_ at this. Killing. Death. Slaughter. These were things that made everything so much clearer. There was no muddiness of _concern_ or _caution_. He was the apex predator, and the entire galaxy was his playground.

He tore his claws into the chest of the nearest merc, grinning beneath the helm of his biomass armor, and let the tendrils crawl across his arm and engulf the screaming man until he fell silent, crushed, dissolved, _consumed_, and turned to face the last of the resistance even as their comrade was absorbed into himself.

They exchanged a glance, and then showed more common sense than the entirety of the American military. They ran. Alex tensed, ready to leap after them and bring them to the ground, when a heavy hand on his shoulder jerked him back to reality.

He swiveled to stare into Shepard's eyes, the mere fact she'd been able to work up the courage to approach him like this enough to wipe the red from his vision and calm him down. Not even Dana had been brave enough to touch him like this, with claws and armor bloodied from a fresh kill. She was shaken, that much was obvious just from her expression, but she hadn't let that stop her. She'd put herself within his reach, put herself in lethal danger, just to bring him down off the ledge.

Alex let the tension flow from his posture, and could tell from Shepard's curt nod that she'd felt the change. She released him and motioned for Garrus to follow them, as she led the way out of the massacre and down the hall.

"We still need to find Jack," Shepard whispered, sniper rifle held in a white-knuckle grip. At least he imagined they would be white. It was hard to tell beneath the armor.

Alex followed her dutifully, eyeing the Commander with more scrutinizing eyes. She pressed herself low into some cover and peered around the corner, holding up her hand to stall them.

"They've got FENRIS mechs," she whispered back to them. "Lots of them."

Alex let his biomass crawl over his skin until his entire left arm was a wicked spiked blade, and reformed his right into a large shield. It had taken a lot of practice to be able to wield both at the same time, but he'd had _centuries_ to hone his art. Shepard and Garrus both stared at him during the change, but said nothing. At least they knew enough to hold all questions until they were out of this mess.

"I'll handle the mechs," Alex offered gruffly. It wasn't so much of an offer as a demand. He would be out there in the thick of it whether Shepard agreed or not. The fact he'd even bothered to say anything was a testament to his budding respect for the human Commander. Once the two snipers were in position, Alex readied his blade and bolted around the turn at a dead sprint, startling the Blue Suns commander that had been standing stupidly in the way.

He cleaved the man in half without breaking stride, only pausing once the pack of mechs surged close, trying to electrocute him through his armor. He grimaced at the unpleasant sensation of turning into a human-shaped lightning rod as he rammed his blade into the 'face' of the nearest FENRIS mech, making it explode and take out several of its brothers in the process. He saw one of the merc's heads explode from a well-placed headshot, and pushed the humans' presence from his mind as he focused on keeping all eyes on _him_ and not his Infiltrator companions.

At some point one of the mercs worked close enough to him to get off a shotgun blast into his face at point-blank range, making him stagger backwards as the world blinked out of existence temporarily. He hated it when they went for the face. He could feel the black and red tendrils of his biomass recreating the missing parts of his head and shifted his shield into a normal arm, lashing out and grabbing in the direction the shot had come from.

The man had foolishly not gotten much distance between them, and Alex snapped his neck in time for his vision to return. He blinked to clear the fog and consumed the man for his trouble, letting the armor crawl back over his head as he turned to see what was left for him to kill.

* * *

Shepard was having a hard time concentrating on fighting when such an awesome show was going on just yards away. Alex was literally a one-man army, and she could see why the Illusive Man had sent her in his direction. He seemed… _invincible._ He was taking hits from assault rifles and a handful of FENRIS mechs as if they were nothing.

And then he'd taken a shotgun blast to the face and Shepard had paled.

Nothing could have survived that. She'd watched, horrified, sniper rifle lowering slightly as she gaped. Alex had staggered back unsteadily, bladed arm waving as if he'd lost his balance. Half of his damn _face_ was missing. The armor had been blown away, along with the front part of his head and most of his neck. As she watched, the shield rippled back into an arm and snapped out at the merc with eerie accuracy, snapping the man's neck through the armor without so much as an instant of hesitation.

And then he'd turned to 'stare' at the corpse in his grip and Shepard had gotten a glimpse of what remained of his face.

A swirling mass of black and crimson tentacles writhed beneath his skin, connecting and splitting apart like a nest of vipers, and as she watched they reformed themselves into an unblemished, familiar face and ice-blue eyes. Alex blinked several times, looking slightly dazed, and then he just looked _irritated_. His right arm shifted again into some kind of clawed whip and tendrils erupted from his skin, crawling across the dead merc in his grip until he was engulfed, and he pulled the mass towards himself until nothing remained of the merc but a bloodstain on the ground at his feet. Alex shivered and the armor slipped back up to cover his head and he turned, already sliding into an offensive stance as he searched for the nearest foe.

Shepard raised her rifle and lined up her next shot, hands only shaking the tiniest bit.

Whatever Alex was, he was clearly not as human as she had first thought.

* * *

Alex Mercer watched with interest as the cryo prison was unlocked and opened down below them on the floor. He was curious about what this 'Jack' could do that would merit such drastic measures of containment. Shepard and Garrus had been keeping their distance from him ever since the fight outside the door, but that was nothing new. People always kept their distance from him, as if they could somehow sense that he was a predator in their midst.

He could honestly say that he had not been expecting a bald woman wearing nothing but tattoos and a strap for a shirt, or that she would yell like an animal and tear a hole through the nearest mech and blast her way out of the room in a spectacular display of biotics.

Alex felt the grin spreading across his face, even if no one else could see it through his armor. "Holy shit," he chuckled, "Jack's a badass."

"_That's_ Jack?" Garrus asked, dumbfounded. Shepard just twitched into something that might be a smile on a good day, and waved them on.

"Come on; let's go make sure she doesn't get herself killed."

* * *

Shepard could feel a headache coming on. Jack was… _abrasive_, to put it mildly. She hadn't heard anyone swear that much since her Academy days, and it was difficult to take her seriously when she was wearing nothing but tattoos from the waist up.

"Come with us, and I'll give you full access to all the Cerberus files you want," Shepard finally gave in, exasperated and ready to just fall face-down on her bed and pretend none of this was happening.

Alex had ditched the creepy Collector-esque armor and stood there looking entirely out of place in his leather jacket and grey hoodie, keeping his electric eyes locked on Jack as if trying to decide if he should be trying to kill her or not. For Jack's part, she was returning the expression tenfold.

"What's with fanboy here?" Jack finally snapped, looking pissed off enough to scare a krogan. "Never seen a woman before or what?"

Alex's grin was shark-like; all teeth. "Not the term I would have used, Subject Zero."

Shepard turned to look at him. _Subject Zero?_ Jack had gone stiff, blue biotic light flicking inside clenched fists, and she suddenly worried for Alex's safety. Alex sounded like a man who knew the secrets to the universe; smug, but dangerously so. He was lethal to anyone who touched him, and he knew it.

Alex just flicked inhuman eyes towards Shepard as if wondering why she was just standing there like a slack-jawed idiot, and Shepard shook herself out of it to look back at Jack.

"Do we have a deal or not?"

Jack ground her teeth and glared hatefully out at the Normandy and the Cerberus logos all over it. "Fine. You better be straight with me."

Shepard just nodded, brushing past her and hoping desperately that the two wouldn't kill each other before they got on board. She didn't keep her hopes up.

* * *

**A/N: **_I probably won't have many conversations with Jack, seeing as how she tends to drop the F-bomb a lot and that isn't something I feel comfortable putting down on paper. And in case you were wondering, I gave Alex Zaaed's room because I hate him and tend to just leave him standing there on Omega with his batarian hostage. His loyalty mission takes too many paragon points to adequately complete until I'm almost finished with the damn game, and he just annoys the heck out of me. /endrant. _


	6. Chapter 6

Alex flexed his fingers as he fixed his gaze at some random point over Miranda's shoulder. God but the woman hadn't shut up for the past… he counted the minutes in his head.

_Fifteen minutes. Fifteen damn minutes._ Alex flicked his eyes back to the Australian woman and tried desperately to figure out what the hell she was talking about. So he'd broken a few of the rifles in the armory trying to find one that was strong enough to hold up to his brand of firepower. That didn't merit a fifteen minute rant, did it?

If Shepard hadn't cornered him and made him swear not to eat her crew, Miranda would be nothing more than a stain on the wall, genetically enhanced biotics or no.

Patience was not a virtue that Alex Mercer aspired to. He hated to stand still. He had to be _moving_, _running_, _climbing_, _killing_. Why else would he have chosen to parkour around Manhattan rather than take the streets? He was built to hunt, not stand idle while he gets berated for crushing 20,000 credits worth of weaponry.

He wondered if Shepard would notice if he tore the woman's vocal cords out.

Probably. _Damn_.

"You do realize I don't give a shit about your broken toys, right?" Alex finally interrupted. He'd stood there silently for long enough, in his opinion. The time for politeness and courtesy was over. "You're lucky Shepard told me not to kill anyone on the ship."

Miranda bristled. She had obviously not paid very close attention to the Commander's debriefing on their newest crewmate. "Cerberus may be funding this operation, but that does not give you free reign to accumulate unwarranted costs."

Alex just stared at her, gratified when she seemed to wilt and back down a bit. He knew humans feared him. As they should. "We're done talking about this," he announced, turning and leaving Miranda spluttering in her office. He ignored her demands for him to get back inside, and just headed for the elevator. Before the Cerberus cheerleader—as Jack had so eloquently put it—had begun screeching at him over the com system about breaking the weapons, he'd been getting closer to finding one that didn't break from him simply pulling the trigger.

He'd seen a _big_ gun in that locker, and he wanted to know what it was and what it could do. And, more importantly, if it would make a big explosion.

Alex grinned. He liked explosions.

* * *

"Commander."

Shepard glanced up from the datapad she'd been going over at the sound of Jacob's voice on the com. "What is it, Jacob?"

"ZE—Alex got his hands on the rocket launcher." There was an audible pause and Shepard ran a hand over her face. "Should I be concerned?"

Shepard frowned. They probably _should_ be concerned. Alex plus a _rocket launcher_ could not possibly end well, in any sense of the word. "How, exactly, did he manage to find the heavy weapons? I thought we'd locked those away."

She'd even had EDI encrypt the code herself. As soon as Alex had displayed an interest in finding a suitable ranged weapon, she'd immediately put all the heavy weapons they owned on lockdown, so to speak. It had only taken her a few minutes on Purgatory to figure out that Alex did nothing half-way. If he set out to annihilate something, he was going to go a step further and wipe all traces that that thing had ever existed in the first place.

If he managed to get his hands on the CAIN…

Well. Localized nuclear strikes onboard the Normandy SR-2 was not a good idea.

"Hell if I know, Commander," came Jacob's slightly unnerved response. She could hear laughing in the background, and decided she had better get down there before half the ship gets blown off. She'd just gotten it fixed, after all.

* * *

Alex grinned as he ran his fingers over the rocket launcher he'd managed to find squirreled away near the back behind some pathetic excuse of an encryption. There wasn't a system he'd ever encountered that could stand up to the combined hacking and technological expertise of a thousand dead engineers.

Now _this_ was a weapon. It seemed sturdy enough to hold up to his grip, and even though he wasn't stupid enough to launch it onboard the Normandy, he was eager to try it out. It showed potential, unlike those little pea-shooters the rest of the crew used. Why Shepard had hidden it away from the rest of the weapons was anyone's guess. If it had been up to him, the entire crew would use nothing but rocket and grenade launchers. That seemed much more effective than worrying about _missing_.

It was hard to miss with a damn _rocket_.

He wasn't all that surprised when Shepard burst into the armory as if afraid it would be on fire, but he barely spared her a glance. The rocket launcher could only hold a few rockets at a time; he wondered if there was a way to add more ammo cartridges to it without messing up the accuracy or overall badass quality the thing had.

"That isn't heavy?" Shepard finally broke the silence, and Alex glanced in her general direction.

Heavy? This? Hell he'd carried a taxi four blocks once just so he could screw with the military by tossing it into their base. He'd ripped industrial-grade air conditioning units straight out of their foundations and chucked them into _helicopters_. He'd thrown Grunt so hard into the cargo bay wall that there was _still_ an impression in the metal. So no, the rocket launcher was not heavy.

"No," Alex deigned to reply.

Shepard fidgeted. She hadn't confronted him yet about his display on the prison ship besides that awkward conversation about not eating her crew, but Alex could see the signs. Fear. Disgust. Mistrust. They weren't anything new to him, but it was admirable how well she was holding up so far.

"What, you think I'm going to shoot this thing _inside?_" Alex finally bit out, irritated. Did she think he was an idiot? He liked explosions, but not explosions that included having to recreate himself from the ground up. One nuclear explosion to the face had been more than enough to learn _that_ particular lesson.

By the way Shepard relaxed, Alex could only assume that had been exactly what she had thought. Alex rolled his eyes and went back to looking over his new find. He glanced idly back at the locker, noting again the strange, fat weapon tucked away. It had the typical skull and crossbones and nuclear symbols all over it, so he'd given it a healthy amount of space while finding the rocket launcher. He held no love for nukes. Even tiny ones.

Why Shepard had a gun that fired _nukes_ and was worried about him finding the _rocket launcher_ Alex had no idea. Logic was not something Shepard seemed to know much about, apparently, if the stories about her MAKO skills were anything to go by.

"There a reason you came down here, Shepard?" Alex finally humored her, setting the beast of a gun back on top of the locker and facing her with folded arms.

Shepard seemed to draw herself together, and Alex desperately hoped she wasn't about to give a speech. He wasn't sure he could take it after that rant courtesy of the Cerberus Bitch.

"We need to talk."

Well it was about damn time.

* * *

"There a reason you came down here, Shepard?" Alex grated out, glaring out at her from beneath his hood. Shepard barely repressed the shiver. Those _eyes_… they seemed to be promising agony and death if she so much as _breathed_ on him funny. At least he'd set the rocket launcher down, so she felt mildly more comfortable being in the same room as him.

She was pretty sure he'd have an itchy trigger finger, despite what he might say to the contrary.

She sucked in a steadying breath and tried to correct her posture, noting the flash of irritation in those electric eyes and the tense in his shoulders. She'd heard about Miranda's lecture. She was surprised the woman was still in one piece.

Maybe the man—or _whatever_ Alex was—was better at taking orders than she'd thought.

"We need to talk," she started, trying to come across as commanding and adequately _not_ worried about how he was going to react to this 'talk.' Alex just nodded and fixed her with that eerie stare of his, and she barreled on. "I'm the Commander of this ship, and I make it a point to know about the men and women that serve under my command. What you did on Purgatory should not have been possible." She folded her arms in a mimicry of his own stance. "So talk."

She couldn't see much of the top half of his face thanks to the hood he never took off, but she could tell his eyes narrowed. They almost seemed to glow, sometimes. Inhuman.

"There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity, Shepard," Alex growled, voice low. He'd stopped calling her Commander the third time she'd called him by name. Since he never offered a surname, she hadn't been sure what else to call him. 'ZEUS' just made him angry, and the last thing she wanted was to make him angry. "You sure you know which side you're walking on?"

"You're a liability," she put out there bluntly as possible. Being straight and to the point seemed to be the best way to get around the spiky walls he tended to put up around himself during conversations. "And until I know you're not about to go insane and start gnawing on my team, you'll remain one. I won't tolerate an unknown on my ship, Alex."

His scowl twitched into a smirk, and it was somehow even _worse_. She hated it when he smiled at her. He always looked like he was fantasizing about ripping into her with those claws of his.

And if he decided to do just that, there wasn't a damn thing Shepard could do to stop him and the man _knew_ it.

"All right. You ever read about an outbreak in Manhattan back in 2008?"

Well that hadn't been what she was expecting. Shepard blinked, and then racked her brain for any knowledge of that point in history. "Some sort of disease or something, right?"

"More or less," Alex allowed, and his grin stretched a little wider. "A scientist working for a company named Gentek had been developing a bioweapon, a super virus. But he knew something was wrong. All the people working on the project were disappearing, most of them in dark alleys with a bullet between the eyes. So he took a vial of the virus with him for insurance, and made a break for it. They cornered him in Penn Station, and as a final act of defiance, he smashed the vial on the ground and released it—the Blacklight virus—into Manhattan. Thousands died within minutes, and the scientist was gunned down by Blackwatch soldiers." The grin slipped from his face and his eyes locked on hers. "His name was Alex Mercer."

Shepard jerked in surprise. She remembered that, now. _Mercer_. He'd been labeled a terrorist. Was this…?

"Alex Mercer died that day. But he didn't stay dead." Here Alex's grin twitched again. "The virus entered his bloodstream and took over, replicating him down to the genetic level. It _became _him." Alex leaned back against the wall and crossed one ankle over the other in a deceptively calm pose, although even Shepard could see the tension roiling just beneath the surface. "Twenty four hours later I woke up in a morgue. I didn't even know my own name until one of the men about to vivisect my corpse read it off a chart. _Mercer, Alex J._ That was the only thing I knew, the only thing that was _mine_. But it wasn't. Not really. You see, I'm not Alex Mercer. I'm not even human. I'm the Blacklight virus, able to replicate DNA down to the cellular level. This is just the face I wear."

"You're… a virus?" Shepard blinked, putting a hand to a suddenly throbbing temple. That headache was back. She'd heard crazier things, of course. There was that whole _Reaper_ thing, after all. "So wait. That doesn't explain why you…" she searched in vain for the proper term for what she'd witnessed on the Purgatory. "…_ate_ those mercs."

"I hunt. I kill. I consume. I become. When I kill, I can convert organic material into biomass and assimilate it. I take their skin, I take their names, I take their skills, their _memories_… I _become_ them. At least in part." Alex shifted and suddenly the black and crimson tendrils crawled over his skin with an unnerving skittering sound, and when they faded back into his skin, a completely different person stood in his place. Shepard just stared at him, wide-eyed. A few moments later and the process repeated, leaving the familiar black jacket and grey hoodie with the blue eyes of Alex Mercer underneath.

Shepard sucked in a breath. _Shapeshifter._ That term did not do him justice. Alex could become _anyone_, and _no one _would be able to tell the difference unless he shifted right there in front of them. He was the perfect hunter. She blinked slowly. Hunter. That was _exactly_ what he was. _Predator._ All those instinctive feelings she'd had, those shivers, the fingers down her spine whenever he was in the room…

"So why are you helping us?" she managed after a pause to collect her thoughts.

Alex shrugged. The gesture was so normal, so _human_… "I was bored," he admitted in a low drawl. "So are you going to freak out now and start screaming about abominations?"

Shepard stuffed her panic and nerves into a box marked _nonessentials_ and shoved it to the back of her mind to be dealt with at a more appropriate moment. Like, after the Collectors were taken care of. "No. So long as you don't harm my crew and help me deal with the Collector threat, you might as well be a three-legged elcor." Shepard frowned and lowered her gaze a bit. Those eyes were unnerving. "I'll let you decide what to tell the crew. Most of them wouldn't believe that without having seen it firsthand anyway. Just… my _no eating the crew_ rule still applies. Understood?"

Alex grinned. _Predator._ "Understood, Shepard."

Shepard nodded stiffly and headed quickly back to the CIC, ignoring Kelly's questions or the looks the crew shot her on the way.

"_I hunt. I kill. I consume. I become." _Shepard shuddered.

_I consume._

Maybe she'd have been better off not knowing.

* * *

**A/N: **_DaggerDoom - I do like Jack's character, and there is a lot of potential for Alex/Jack convos that I'll probably find a way to work in, but if you've read anything else of mine you'll be able to tell that I don't mind cursing. Damn, shit, bitch, ass, all the good stuff. I just draw the line at the f-word. Morals. Meh. What can you do? I don't mind writing Jack, but since such an integral part of her personality is her speech, I'd be taking her ooc if I *didn't* curse. Ya feel me? I try to keep everyone as in character as I possibly can while still being flexible. But that's just me. Glad you like it, though!_

_Anywho, I can't help but laugh at the image of Alex Mercer with a rocket launcher. It was great in-game, and it would be just as great in Mass Effect, imo. _

_Oh, and I see all you lurkers out there! Lurking. Like a lurker. I seeee yoooou... :)_

_mikael - Yes, I plan to have more than 6 chapters. I'm just trying to make sure they're all at least 1,000 words before I put them up. Meaning, I'm mashing a bunch of tiny ones together into a group of coherent wholes. I _do_ have work and other lifely responsibilities, and I'm juggling a bunch of stories, but don't worry; this one will get there!_


	7. Chapter 7

"No."

"Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"What would I want with a _cherry?_"

"You're missing the point."

Alex rolled his eyes and let the table take some of his weight. He couldn't put _all_ of his rather considerable mass onto the thin sheet of… whatever it was tables were made out of on spaceships… or it would have buckled.

Kasumi was… something. He wasn't sure whether to be amused by her endless chatter or weld her door shut so she'd be stuck in there and leave him in peace. She reminded him of Dana a bit. Only without the Disappointed Look that was capable of reducing the great ZEUS to a pile of squirming goo—literally, on one occasion—or the propensity for throwing things at him when he came in via a window instead of the door.

All right, so maybe they really _didn't_ have that much in common.

"Come on, Alex," Kasumi smiled innocently at the unimpressed Blacklight virus. He was pretty sure she was fluttering her lashes beneath her hood. "Shep is too busy saving the galaxy. If we're lucky, you won't even have to do that tentacle thing on anyone."

_That tentacle thing._ Maybe she was more like Dana than he'd thought.

"And you're asking me this _why?_ Wasn't your agreement for _Shepard_ to dress up like a lunatic and go to some party?" Alex scowled. Him? In an enclosed space with a bunch of veritable pirates? That could not possibly end well.

Alex Mercer did not go to parties.

"She's _busy_," Kasumi repeated, as if Alex hadn't heard her the first time. "And if we don't get this out of the way soon, someone will forget and Hock will figure out I'm on to him."

"Then ask Jacob. Or Garrus. Hell ask _Joker_. I don't _do_ parties."

"Have you ever even _been_ to one?"

Alex hesitated. He had memories of parties, of course. Several of them, in fact. But he couldn't recall an instance in which he himself actually went to one of his own volition. The original Alex Mercer had been even _less_ social than his viral counterpart, and he rarely ran into people who didn't open fire on him automatically nowadays.

"I thought so," Kasumi smirked. "Please, Alex? It'll be fun!"

Alex frowned. Fun. "Will there be explosions?"

"If we're terribly unlucky."

He grunted. Considering his luck so far, it was highly possible there would be an explosion. "I'm bringing the rocket launcher," he told her blandly. "And a bunch of grenades."

Kasumi shrugged. "If you can fit it in the statue, you can bring it."

Alex shifted to his other foot. Was he really doing this? Attending a _party?_ Of criminals? "And I'm taking the CAIN." He glared a warning at her from beneath his hood, daring her to contradict him.

"Boy, you really like heavy weapons, don't you?" Kasumi grinned. "Compensating for something?"

Alex stared at her. "No."

"You're no fun."

* * *

Alex stared at the suit Kasumi had thrust into his arms as she pushed him towards the elevator.

"Nothing says 'I don't belong here; shoot me' like a hoodie, Lexi."

_Lexi?_ Alex stared harder at the black and white suit she'd handed him. Had Kasumi just given him, ZEUS, a _nickname?_ He wasn't sure whether that bothered him or not. Alex had never actually put on clothes before. His jacket and hoodie were made of biomass; the outermost layer had protected him from more bullets than he cared to count, and he'd feel, well, _naked_ without it.

He fingered the foreign material of the outfit she'd procured from parts unknown for him to don. It was cool to the touch, and slick, and he was pretty sure it would not offer adequate protection from blades or energy rounds. Regardless of what Kasumi said, Alex was almost one hundred percent certain that there would be an explosion.

And if there wasn't, he would _make_ one.

He frowned and looked down at himself. With a flick of thought, he rearranged the biomass forming his clothes to look like the set she had handed him. He raised tentative fingers to his newly-exposed head of curly brown hair, feeling incredibly vulnerable without his hood. He tossed the suit he'd copied onto the desk and paused in front of the door, uncertain.

He felt so… _awkward_. Like he had someone to impress, which was ridiculous. With a jerk of his head, he stepped through the door and almost tripped over Kasumi, who'd had her ear pressed to the door.

He glared down at her, the effect somewhat dampened by the lack of shadows on his face, and he watched as her barely-visible eyes widened and she broke out into a wide grin.

"Oh _Lexi_," she giggled, "you clean up _good_. You should dress like this more often."

"Not on your life, Kasumi," he growled back, fingers twitching uselessly at his sides, biomass roiling beneath his skin in its need to rearrange itself into blades or claws or, better yet, his damn _hood_. He'd never been in his 'natural' form without it, and it _itched_ trying to keep himself from shifting. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

Shepard barely spared a glance when Kasumi had bounced past looking like a kid in a candy shop, as the old saying went. She _did_ spare _several_ glances at the strange man following after her like he had his own personal vendetta against happiness.

She opened her mouth to question why Kasumi had let a strange man onto the ship, when she froze, eyes wide in recognition. Ice-blue eyes locked on hers, a silent threat of death if she so much as _mentioned _how he was dressed.

Commander Shepard had never paid much attention to death threats.

"Alex, what are you _wearing?_" Shepard boggled, raking her eyes over him. He stood stiffly nearby, fingers clenched into white-knuckled fists, looking… Shepard blushed.

She had never seen him without the hood. _His hair is curly. And brown._ For some reason, the image he presented out of that hoodie and leather jacket was almost… human. If it wasn't for the inhuman tint to his silver-blue eyes or the murder written across his face, he would have been rather handsome.

As it was, Shepard was having a hard time reconciling the young man in a suit with the living WMD that had taken up residence in the cargo bay.

"We're going to crash Hock's party," Kasumi chimed in, hanging on Alex's arm as if he _couldn't_ kill her with a flick of his wrist for daring to touch him. Oddly, he tolerated the contact. He was probably too busy scowling to notice she had grabbed him at all. She paused and fingered the fabric of the suit before looking up at him. Alex returned her stare with his typical venomous glare.

"What?" he barked, voice more irritated than Shepard had ever heard from him.

"I distinctly remember your suit being silk, not…" she pinched the fabric between her fingers and Alex twitched. "…_you_."

"Would silk stop a bullet?" Alex growled. It was obvious he was not enjoying this conversation. "Look, I'm in the damn suit. Let's just _go_."

Alex reached up in a habitual gesture to pull his hood lower over his face, paused halfway there as if remembering he wasn't wearing one, and ran fingers through his hair instead. The motion was awkward, jerky, unpracticed.

Shepard wondered how long it had been since the man had felt his own hair.

"You look good, Alex," Shepard offered. The understatement of the year. If he could stop scowling and somehow make his eyes not _glow_, he could turn heads for a reason _other_ than being a murderous abomination of science and bad luck.

Alex grunted. "I look like a _human_," he hissed. "Can we _go_ now?"

Kasumi just giggled and tugged him towards the shuttle bay, waving over her shoulder. Shepard waved numbly back.

How strange.

* * *

**A/N: **_Yes, Alex is taking Shepard's place during Kasumi's loyalty mission. I thought it would be fun to put him in a suit and make him play nice with all the stuck-up mercenary leaders and whatnot. _


	8. Chapter 8

Alex was not happy. And when Alex is not happy, heads roll.

Kasumi had left him _on his own_ in this mansion full of _humans_ with their _heartbeats_ and _breathing_ and it was driving him absolutely _mad_. As a general rule, Alex had always avoided crowds whenever possible. All those crushing bodies made him twitch with the urge to _consume_ and _kill_, and to suppress that urge was almost _painful_.

Donovan Hock was an ass. He had gleamed that much just from setting eyes on the man, and once he'd heard him _talk_… well. Any thoughts of consuming him flew out the window. He did not want _that_ _voice_ inside his head for the rest of his life. The people at the party gave him his space; even without his hood or leather jacket, he still radiated that aura of unapproachability, and for that at least he was grateful.

Kasumi kept whispering in his ear through the earpiece she'd given him, telling him what to look for and how to deactivate the massive security system guarding the vaults. And, of course, Kasumi had to get into the one room in the house that was actually a challenge for Alex to infiltrate.

Sure, he could have just lured Hock into a room and consumed him, donned his skin, and turned off the system himself, but his voice was just so _irritating_. Like a fake accent. If he had to listen to that, even in whispers, for the rest of his life, he would go _insane_.

More so than he already was.

The DNA was easy. The guard in front of Hock's chambers had melted and backed off from a single hungry glare, and Alex had been given free rein to rummage through Hock's things like some kind of viral pervert. Cutting the power had been child's play; lacking an omni-tool, thermal vision had come in handy for following the lines of electricity running beneath the flooring. He didn't bother trying to explain it to Kasumi when she'd asked. The password had been simple to get; there had only been two guards between him and the terminal, and he'd left the guard room a little less hungry than when he'd gone in.

But the voice sample…

He was going to have to talk to Hock for that.

And _listen_.

To_ that voice_.

Alex growled and clenched his fists. He took a breath his body didn't need in order to steady himself and straightened, forcing himself to relax. Donovan Hock was just like every other egotistical maniac Alex had met over his considerable lifespan.

It took absolutely nothing to send the man into a monologue.

It took a tremendous amount of will, however, to make himself stand there and listen to it.

When he was finally, _finally_, finished, Alex all but sprinted back to the vault door, going eagerly to the statue of Saren that contained his rocket launcher and the CAIN. He was eager to try them out and make something explode.

He could use the distraction.

The elevator ride was awkward as hell. Alex shifted feet while Kasumi stared innocently at the door. Why were elevators always so _slow?_ He could have jumped down the elevator shaft and gotten there in better time. He gripped the rocket launcher tighter, forcing himself to calm down when he heard the weapon creak.

He didn't want to break it before he had a chance to blow something up.

The vault was full of very nice, expensive, tasteful, _fragile_ things. Alex paused at the huge head he recognized at the front of the room. Was that… the Statue of Liberty?

"How'd he get a hold of Lady Liberty?" Kasumi asked, sounding distraught. "Damn you, Hock!"

Alex blinked. He remembered that statue. He could see it, sometimes, from the Manhattan skyline, tinged red from the virus tainting the air. To the humans, it had represented freedom and liberty. To him, it had been the outermost bars of his cage, forever out of reach across an expanse of water that hated him almost as much as he hated _it_.

Water and Alex did not mix.

With a grunt, Alex turned and followed Kasumi down the stairs to where she was fawning over some kind of SMG and its replica. He saw the greybox they had come for laying nearby, and he flicked an eye back to the head of Lady Liberty, wondering how much trouble he'd get in if he shot a rocket at it. It was _staring_ at him.

A massive hologram of Hock's head showed up and Alex did not even wait for the man to open his mouth before settling the launcher on his shoulder and aiming at the nearest large vase-thing across the room. He grinned as he pulled the trigger, and laughed when it exploded in a hailfire of broken shards and pieces. Hock screamed in outrage, and Kasumi just giggled.

And then the fun began.

Alex ran out of rockets halfway through the mass of enemies, so he shouldered it and leapt among the men and women storming out at them and let his arm shudder and ripple until a blade as long as he was tall took its place. The grin never left his face as he carved a bloody swath through their ranks, those with the virtual armor signifying a commander impaled on his blade to be ripped apart and consumed. He never knew when he might need their knowledge, after all.

Better safe than sorry.

Not that Alex ever felt _sorry_ for anything anymore.

When they emerged and Hock hovered in on a damn _gunship_, shit got real.

Alex rolled behind some cover as Kasumi danced around the field backstabbing people, or whatever it was she was doing. He shifted until the CAIN rested in his hands, and he eyed the warnings scrawled across it with a wry smirk. He stood from cover to face the gunship whirring down on him, lining up his sights. It took the CAIN a _long_ time to charge up, and during that time Alex became grateful he wasn't wearing the real suit or it would have been ripped to shreds by the hail of gunfire pounding into him.

And with the sound of a thunderclap, the CAIN fired.

The last time Alex had been in close proximity to a nuclear explosion had been back on Manhattan, when he'd dropped it twenty miles offshore and gotten caught on the edge of the blast. He hadn't had much chance to observe the scenery before a godless fire had ripped him apart at a cellular level, the intense heat of it enough to physically melt him into so much primordial ooze.

This time, Alex couldn't have looked away if he'd wanted to.

The explosion all but swallowed the gunship, tearing through the shields as if they hadn't been there at all, buckling metal and filling the air with the scream of failing engines and the _boom_ of a miniature nuke detonating in Donovan Hock's face. Cover was pried from the ground and hurled back, structures leveled, Kasumi had ducked back inside and pressed her back to the wall while she rode out the wave, but Alex just stood and _basked_ in it.

A nimbus of orange and impossible white filled his field of vision and the heat of the weapon was almost like a caress as it slammed into him with enough force to disintegrate a MAKO. He stood immobile in the heat as it collapsed on itself before lancing out in a shockwave that managed to knock him back a single step with the speed of its impact.

All that was left of Hock's gunship was a smoking crater and a twisted hulk of unrecognizable metal.

Alex's face broke out into an unhinged grin a little too wide to be entirely human, and he lowered the CAIN from his shoulder and into his hands. Kasumi tiptoed out to stand beside him, staring at what was left of Donovan Hock.

Alex flexed his fingers around the depleted CAIN's trigger and turned his head to fix his grin on Kasumi, who was struggling to hide a smile of her own. "I told you there'd be explosions."

* * *

Kasumi was fingering the greybox again. Alex had seen the memories and message hidden within, tangled up with some kind of information that would be Bad with a capital B if it got into the wrong hands.

She wanted to keep it. It would be dangerous if she did, but…

Alex furrowed his brow, hands clasped between his knees. If those had been _Dana's_ memories, he would certainly keep it, regardless of the consequences. Why bother worrying about something that _might_ happen, and lose something so precious in the process? He watched as Kasumi smiled wistfully at the small box in her hands. She wanted his opinion. He'd helped her get the thing; he deserved to have a say in what they did with it.

Alex lowered his head. He already had the ability to relive the life of anyone he consumed with vivid clarity. But he couldn't relive his own, and he couldn't relive Dana's. Those were the ones he would kill to see again, if only for a moment. Two hundred years had passed, and he could still remember her face, smiling at him as she stirred from a coma that had put her on the edge of death for more than four months.

What would he be willing to give up to see that smile again? What _wouldn't_ he?

"Keep it," he muttered, and Kasumi looked up in surprise. He peered out at her through one electric silver-blue eye. "I won't tell Shepard if you don't."

Kasumi smiled, and it was genuine. "I will. I'd… like that. Thanks, Lexi."

Alex grunted uneasily and glared at the floor again. He'd have to be careful.

He had sounded almost human.

* * *

**A/N:** _Alex + CAIN = happiness. Also, I tacked on the bit about Keji''s greybox because it was too short and unrelated to add on the next 'chapter.'_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **_I'm warping reality a bit. I KNOW it's probably not possible to have recruited Grunt, Garrus, Mordin, Kasumi, Jack, AND managed to do Kasumi's loyalty quest before completing the Horizon quests. Deal with it._

* * *

Shepard stood grimly, meeting the eye of each of her crew. This was going to be big. The first time the Illusive Man had actually been _helpful_ for once, instead of just holding back a key part that could possibly get them all killed.

Horizon had gone silent. The Collectors were on their way. And Shepard intended to put a stop to it all right here, right now.

Garrus nodded curtly when she looked his way, doing the turian equivalent of a smile, mandibles twitching. Grunt just pounded his fists together, eager for a real fight. Mordin was in his lab working out the "kinks" in his anti-seeker swarm thing. Jack hadn't bothered to show up, but Shepard couldn't bring herself to be surprised. Jacob and Miranda both looked professional and military. Well, Jacob looked military. Miranda looked like she was posing for a spandex commercial. Kasumi had clasped her hands together and grinned.

Alex, however, looked unimpressed. He glanced up at her from beneath his hood—he'd been inordinately relieved when he'd finally shed the suit and put on his original outfit again—and folded his arms.

"It's obviously a trap," Alex rolled his shoulders, not looking all that put off by the possibility. "What are we waiting for?"

Shepard nodded. It seemed too good to be true, but on the off-chance this info was solid, they could be saving thousands of human lives. "Joker—"

"Way ahead of you, Commander."

Shepard took a deep breath. This ends now.

* * *

Alex eyed the swarms of strange insects buzzing in massive groups just out of arm's reach. He doubted their toxin would be of much use against _him_, but he didn't want to have to save Shepard's ass if she gets herself stung.

"Mordin, you're _sure_ these armor upgrades will protect us from the swarms?" Shepard's slightly nervous voice rang over the comm as she readied her sniper rifle.

"Certainty impossible. But in limited numbers should confuse detection." Mordin sounded _far_ too cheerful to be talking about hiding from the enemy. "Make us _invisible_ to swarms!" A pause. "In theory."

Alex hesitated mid-step. "In _theory?_ Sucks to be you guys."

"Experimental technology," he apologized, not sounding at all apologetic. "Only test is contact with seeker swarms. Look forward to seeing if you survive!"

"Yeah, me too," Alex smirked. If he has to pull Shepard and Garrus' collective asses from the fire, he's ripping Mordin's _other_ head thing off.

Alex had, of course, not had any armor to upgrade. Mordin had approached him with some kind of needle, and Alex had threatened to show him what color salarian organs were if he so much as _poked_ him with it. Medicine—_needles_—and viruses did _not_ mix. Shepard had tried to talk him into it, but Alex was adamant. His organic armor was more than he'd need.

He stepped away from Shepard and one of the seeker swarm bug things darted towards him, hovering awkwardly nearby, as if not sure what to do now that it was close to him. It landed on the arm holding his rocket launcher and tried half-heartedly to sting him. He didn't even feel it through his biomass armor, and grabbed it in his fist as it tried to fly away.

This thing could paralyze humans. Alex crushed it in his fist and felt it twitching uselessly. Experimentally, he called the tendrils to his hand and plunged them into the insect. Alien DNA was always more difficult to consume and assimilate than that of humans. Difficult, but not impossible. He'd gotten pretty good at finding the important parts in foreign anatomy and splicing them with his own over the years.

He opened his fist again and shook a leg from his fingers, the rest of the seeker pulled into his skin and consumed. As a _bug_, it held no workable memories, but he did manage to isolate the part of its genome that allowed it to produce a paralytic toxin. He grinned beneath his helmet. He could work with that; Alex filed the knowledge away for later.

Anything that gave him an edge was worth the trial and error process of mutating it to fit his own needs.

Shepard looked at him oddly and Alex just shrugged, readjusting his grip on the rocket launcher.

"Tastes like chicken," Alex smirked and Shepard just rolled her eyes, forging ahead with Garrus at her heels.

When Alex saw his first Collector, he couldn't help but wonder if the seeker he'd consumed was just a tiny version of the bigger ones. It looked like a bipedal insect with a roughly pyramid-shaped head, although the damn _particle cannon_ it shot at him ripped through his armor and took a good chunk out of his shoulder.

"_Damn it!_" Alex barked, dashing behind some cover as his biomass reknit itself. He made a mental note not to stand in front of that again. It had stung like a bitch. He fired a blind shot over the cover with the rocket launcher, gratified when he heard a screech that indicated one of the bug things had gotten a face-full of shrapnel.

There were a lot of them, and they flew in like a bunch of pigeons, but none of the others had that particle cannon at least. When he was sure he wasn't going to get ripped apart again on a cellular level, he left his cover and turned himself in a veritable meat shield as he forewent his rocket launcher for his claws. It was far more satisfying to get up close and personal, no matter how big the explosion was.

The Collectors seemed to hesitate as he charged them, as if they could never have comprehended what he was doing. They all seemed rather mindless, he thought, as he tore the head from one with his bare hands and threw it into its nearest friend hard enough to punch a hole through the armored carapace. Like the Infected back in Manhattan; just following orders, acting on instinct.

Alex made a point to know as much about his enemy as he could, and in order to do that, he tended to consume at least one of every species he ran across. With the exception of the hanar. Those things were just _weird_. He saw one of the Collectors off to the side, keeping up a barrage of suppressing fire on Garrus' location.

Alex pounced at the Collector, claws outstretched, and just as he got his talons around the bug's throat and prepared to jerk it to the side, the thing's shell cracked and it began to _glow_.

"What the shit?" Alex cursed, impaling it with his tentacles before it had a chance to finish whatever the hell _that_ was. The glowing Collector writhed in his grip long after any ordinary creature should have been dead, and then it fixed glowing yellow eyes on him and Alex ripped it in half with a feral snarl, letting his body finish what he had started.

It was a walking _bug_. It couldn't possibly have any—

"_**We are the Harbinger of your perfection."**_

Alex screamed and grabbed his head with his clawed hands, falling to his knees in the grass. That voice… it was every soul he'd ever consumed, every man woman and child that had ever drawn breath and been ended, every race, every tongue, every nation. Incomprehensible, and yet it made perfect sense.

"_**We are your genetic destiny."**_

He clawed at his head, trying to force the voice to _stop_. All he knew was _agony_; his entire race, torn to pieces, broken down, rewritten at the genetic level… it was so slow, tortuous, inevitable. And the screaming, God the _screaming_…

"_**You are bacteria. Shortsighted. The flesh is a machine; evolution **_**cannot**_** be stopped."**_

_Blood, so much blood, screaming, crying. Quickly quickly, into the stasis pods! We will not be eradicated. We will _endure_. The Reapers. The Reapers are coming. Beware. Beware!_

"_**We are the beginning, you are the end."**_

The end. The _end_. Alex screamed aloud, inhuman, more animal than man, clawing at his armor and struggling to silence the chorus, the untold_ millions_, screaming as one voice and sundering the very world with their agony.

"Alex!" That voice… so very far away… so very familiar… Dana?

No. No hope… no life… no _purpose_… they should all give in. No use. No use…

"_Alex!_"

Alex snapped his eyes open to find himself kneeling on the grass, claws digging through the helmet of his biomass armor, his body just barely holding on to its humanity. The pain throbbed near the back of his head like an old bruise, and he stood stiffly to his feet, hands on his knees. Gradually the crimson haze at the edges of his vision faded away, and he straightened, fingers twitching, every cell in his body on a knife-edge of tension.

He stared at Shepard. She had been shaking him while he knelt in the grass, screaming. Her eyes asked a question that he didn't have the answer to.

"Well," Alex cleared his throat. His voice sounded hoarse, unnaturally so. Had he really be yelling that loud? He flexed his fingers to hide his unsteadiness. He was _not_ afraid. He was Alex Mercer. Blacklight. He did not feel fear. Fear felt _him. _"That was fun."

Shepard narrowed her eyes behind her visor.

Alex shifted his weight to his other foot and readied his rocket launcher. That's the last time he ever consumes one of _those_, that's for damn sure. "I'll explain later, okay?"

Shepard stares at him for another long second before nodding, almost _knowingly_. He'd heard she'd received visions from the Protheans.

Maybe she _did_ understand.

Alex sure as hell didn't.

* * *

**Other A/N:** _What would happen if Alex consumed a Collector possessed by Harbinger? The biggest migraine of his life, most likely. Poking around in a Reaper's brain is not a Good Idea, Alex._

**_EDIT: _**_Some of you mentioned that the M-920 Cain does not actually launch nukes. I am aware of this. A gun that literally launches nuclear warheads would be a little ridiculous; I just chose to call it a 'nuke launcher' and 'pretend' that it's actually doing so for the humor value. My Alex likes explosions. The M-920 Cain makes large explosions that resemble nuclear weapons. Alex has had bad experiences with nukes and decided to make the CAIN his bitch. Commence giggles. _


	10. Chapter 10

Shepard wasn't sure what had just happened, exactly. Somehow, the entire colony manages to get frozen in place, but Kaidan Alenko is… unaffected? Broke free? It hurt just thinking about it. Not to mention the circular logic Kaidan flung at her as soon as the word _Cerberus_ left her mouth.

'Cerberus are terrorists. They saved your life, and so you are now a terrorist. The Collectors are attacking human colonies. Like terrorists. Therefore, the Collectors are _obviously_ working for Cerberus, which means they're working for _you_. Forget that they just spent the past few hours trying to kill you; it was quite obviously a rouse to trick me into thinking you're one of the good guys. Now I'm going to ignore everything you and Garrus are saying because I'm always right. Problem?'

Yeah. Shepard was a bit peeved by that.

While Garrus tried to talk some sense into the man, Shepard glanced over to where Alex was leaning against a building. He seemed completely fine, as if he hadn't just collapsed and all but made her go deaf with that… _wail_. In fact, he looked rather bored. It was hard to tell behind his armor since she couldn't see his face, but he just _felt_ bored. Kaidan didn't seem to have even noticed he was there.

She watched as Alex sighed and peeled off the wall to join her, rolling his shoulders.

"Shepard, can we _leave_ now? This place is starting to creep me out."

Kaidan blinked. "Who are you supposed to be?"

Alex glanced in his direction with that same air of nonchalance. "I could ask you the same question."

Kaidan straightened. "Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko of the Systems Alliance."

Alex shifted to his other foot and the armor melted from his frame. He crossed his arms and raised an unimpressed brow. "And where were _you_ while we were out here saving the damn colony?"

"I was organizing the resistance!" Kaidan all but spluttered.

Shepard rubbed a hand over her face and sighed. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Alex brushed off Shepard's attempts to corner him and barricaded himself in the cargo bay. The throbbing had stopped, at least, but he still had no desire to try consuming another Collector to compare the experience. He braced his arms on the desk and drummed his fingers on its surface. Shepard had told him about the Reapers, of course, and how she suspected the Collectors were working for them.

It seemed to go _much_ farther than that.

Judging from what he'd felt in between 'Harbinger's' speeches, the Collectors did operate on a sort of Hive mind, only magnified by ten. They were capable of individual action and reaction, but without the influence of what Alex suspected was a Reaper, they wouldn't be much more than the common Infected back on Manhattan. And there were always those fuzzy images of death and war and the extinction of an entire race. That had been a little unnerving.

Shepard was going to want to know what he'd seen, if he'd learned anything useful about them, and he wasn't sure what all to tell her. _Yeah Commander, I relived the extinction of some race that was wiped out a loooong time ago, oh and I'm pretty sure the glowing ones are possessed by one of those Reapers you were going on about earlier._

It had been like trying to communicate with Elizabeth Greene at her worst. It made sense on a primal level, but any attempt to understand it just gave him a headache. It didn't help that the bug thing had _looked_ at him like it _knew_ him right before he'd ripped it in half.

Damn. He hoped not.

He hadn't tapped into the Hive mind in centuries; after the last of Redlight had been eradicated, the overwhelming silence that had permeated the Hive had been almost as disturbing as listening to them chattering back and forth. Alex stopped drumming his fingers. He might be able to 'listen in' to the Collector 'Hive mind' if he worked on it, but did he _really_ want to? Alex shook his head.

He'd bring it up to Shepard. Let _her_ make that call.

Alex sighed. He should have just stayed on Cailloux.

* * *

Shepard watched, spellbound, as Alex began to dismantle the Collector Particle Beam she'd recovered from Horizon. Jacob and Garrus had thrown everything they had at it and gotten nowhere; the Collectors' technology was simply on too high a register for them to do much more than figure out how to pull the trigger. Alex, though, had already taken it apart, pointed out the key components, and begun drawing out the schematics for it.

"I had no idea you were a gunsmith, Alex," Shepard mused, watching as he handled some kind of yellow focusing crystal as if it were a snake.

"I'm not," Alex insisted, not even bothering to look at her as he replied. He'd chased out everyone but her once he had the gun laid out on his desktop, claiming that a distraction at this point could be fatal. Not to _him_, he'd been sure to point out, but to everyone else. Not that he cared. "It's the Collector I consumed; knowledge of their technology seems inherent rather than learned."

Shepard bit back a bunch of questions and continued to watch while he did things to the weapon she had no hope of following. Alex was being stubbornly silent when it came to what he'd learned from the Collectors, almost as if he enjoyed giving her headaches.

"Although," Alex went on, "I _have_ consumed a handful of gunsmiths in my time."

Shepard shifted feet. Even after Alex had explained it, his… _situation_ still bothered her. A lot. The man—_virus?_—ate people for crying out loud. The crew seemed to have taken it in stride, not that they would probably tell her if it were otherwise, but she really didn't know what excuse Alex had given them in the first place.

"So you think you can learn anything from that?" Shepard nodded towards the dismantled weapon.

Alex paused and flicked inhuman eyes up to meet hers. "I don't have to _learn_ anything from it. I'm only writing out the schematics because Jacob asked me to."

Shepard blinked. "Jacob asked you to do that? I thought you were just… taking the initiative."

"Shepard, I know you've only known me a few weeks, but do I _really_ seem like the type to take the _initiative_ on _anything?_"

Well, he had a point there. Shepard folded her arms and couldn't help but stare as he quickly put the gun back together as if were a child's jigsaw puzzle. He tossed the weapon at Shepard and she fumbled to catch it, and then got a face-full of blueprints as the schematic smacked her in the face.

"There. Come back later with a _real_ challenge, eh Shepard?"

Shepard shook her head and eyed him. "You're sure you're all right, Alex?"

Alex tensed briefly, iron gaze flicking away to glare a hole in the bulkhead. "I'm not a _child_, Shepard. I'm fine."

"Alex."

He growled—_growled_—and stared at her. "I'm _fine_. It won't happen again." He glared at the wall again and Shepard shook her head, turning to leave. She'd almost stepped through the door when he glanced up. "Oh, by the way."

Shepard raised a brow in a _go on_, gesture.

"Just thought you might want to know: the Collectors used to be Protheans."

Shepard's jaw fell and Alex grinned, saluting her with two fingers as the door slid shut between them.

_Wait_… _what?_

* * *

**A/N: **_Mmyess..._


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **_Expect nothing serious from this chapter. I was on a caffine high while writing it._

* * *

"What do you mean Shepard's gone?"

"To be precise, Alex, Shepard is not 'gone.' She is merely no longer on the ship. Garrus and Operative Lawson accompanied her to Illium this morning and have not returned."

Alex paused. She'd _left him_ on the ship? He'd gone on almost every mission with her since _joining_. Was this revenge for dropping that Prothean crap on her last night? And _Miranda Lawson?_ He'd been replaced by the _Cerberus Bitch?_ Of everyone on the ship, of everyone in the crew, Shepard picks the _one person_ he hates more than _Blackwatch?_

Alex clenched his fist. Well _fine_. Maybe she'll get her ass kicked all the way back to Earth and learn her lesson.

Not that… he was _worried_… or anything. No, of course not. But _still_, she should know better. He was easily the strongest member on the team; leaving him behind made absolutely no sense. He could handle entire squadrons _by himself_ where the others would end up riddled with bullet holes.

He relaxed. Maybe the others were just going stir-crazy since he was hogging all the action. He could understand that. Surely that was why she'd left him behind. Not because she was angry, or because she didn't like him, but because the others were getting jealous. Alex smirked. Well, he supposed he could forgive her for that.

But what was he supposed to do now? He _hated_ being idle. He _loathed_ it. "EDI, what does the rest of the crew do while Shepard's out being a damn hero?"

"Mr. Taylor categorizes the weapons in the armory and performs numerous acts of physical exertion. Dr. Solus is currently researching a foreign tissue sample Shepard acquired from Horizon. Mr. Moreau—"

"Okay so basically everyone on the ship just sits around twiddling their thumbs while waiting for Shepard to come back."

"That is an accurate assumption."

Alex sighed. Well screw that. He's not a damn _lapdog_ waiting for praise and treats. "Doesn't anyone ever go planetside? You know, for R&R? Shore leave? Out of boredom?"

"That is against regulations, Alex. The Commanding officer must approve all unscheduled shore leave. Seeing as how Shepard is not currently aboard, obtaining proper authorization would be difficult."

"Well what's she doing down there anyway? Shopping?"

"Shepard is currently aiding Operative Lawson with a personal matter."

"Well that sounds boring." Alex paused, staring at the door as he thought. He was starting to get fidgety. He pushed through the door and headed across the hall. Maybe Grunt would spar with him again.

He grinned. _I wonder if I can throw him through the wall…_

* * *

_I wish Alex was here._

It was not the first time Shepard had wished for that as she ducked behind cover, automatically waiting for him to leap out into the open and slaughter everything within a hundred feet before she had time to ready a shot. She supposed she could have brought him along instead of Garrus, but she'd brought Garrus on every mission since before they'd taken out Saren. Leaving him behind would have felt _wrong_.

And she was still pissed at him for dropping that Collector / Prothean shit on her like that and refusing to elaborate. Some downtime would do the man some good.

As long as he doesn't tear her ship apart. _Damn._

Maybe she hadn't thought that through very well.

A sniper round _pinged_ against the edge of the conveniently placed cinder block serving as her cover, and she ducked back around, cursing. She'd only worked with Miranda once, back before she had any other options, and she wasn't used to her mixed bag of biotics and firepower.

"Scratch one!" Garrus shouted as one of the mercs slumped over, headless. Shepard shook her head as all the attention shifted to his location at the sound of his voice. Sometimes she wondered if Garrus simply lacked common sense. Shouting out his position while attempting to snipe people was a strange strategy, to be certain.

A bunch of FENRIS mechs came bounding around the corner and Shepard sighed. This would be _so_ much easier with Alex's special brand of localized genocide. She hopped out of cover just long enough to line up a shot and then ducked back down after the _thoom_ of her rifle almost knocked her backwards with the recoil.

She needed a new gun…

* * *

Alex was bored.

There was no way around it. There just wasn't anything to do on the ship that he hadn't already done a million times before. Everyone _else_ seemed perfectly content to just stand around waiting for Shepard to come back, but Alex couldn't make himself do that. He'd already taken apart every weapon in the armory and put them back together—adding upgrades where he saw room for improvement—and pestered Joker until he'd threatened to turn the ship around if Alex didn't go away.

Beating Grunt at hand-to-hand was only entertaining once, maybe twice, before that too became tedious. Plus Grunt had been pacing and agitated, although he'd seemed grateful for the momentary distraction sparring had given him before Alex had gotten bored and left.

Currently, he was playing chess with EDI.

She was actually a challenge for him, being an AI, although Alex had consumed so many geniuses and tacticians that he was able to hold his own pretty well. The game had been going on for at least two hours now, and everyone in the crew had dropped by at least once to watch the two super minds go head-to-head, so to speak.

He glared at the holographic queen EDI had just used to capture his second rook and scowled. He should have seen that coming; he was getting sloppy.

"Yo, Alex—"

"Not now, Joker. I'm busy," Alex grunted, eyeing his remaining pieces and trying to determine what EDI was going to do next before he moved. If he lost to her, he'd never live it down. The voices in his head wouldn't let him.

"Yeah? How's that working out for you?"

Alex growled low in his throat, and heard Joker laughing over the intercom. He smirked and knocked over EDI's bishop with a triumphant _ha!_

There was a noticeable pause before EDI quietly moved her queen into the vacated spot and Alex froze in place. No. No way. She didn't just…

"Checkmate."

"Shit," Alex snarled, fingers drumming on the tabletop, wishing the pieces were solid so he could send them flying in a fit of pique. "I call a rematch."

"The likelihood of your victory is less than 0.04%, Alex."

"I don't care. _Rematch_."

"Very well."

Joker whistled over the com. "0.04%? That's like, a thousand times what she gave the Commander when they played."

Alex grinned. "That's .04 more than nothing, EDI. You're going _down_."

"I am physically unable to move in a downward direction. It shall have to be _you_ that does so, Alex."

Alex snorted a laugh. "You're on."

* * *

**Other A/N: **_Alex and EDI playing chess? Oh the humanity. I always wondered what everyone DID while Shepard was off gallivanting into the sunset being a hero and all. When you go to visit them, they're just... standing there. I doubt Alex would go for that._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **_14,993 hits on this story in six days. Gotta say, that's pretty dern awesome. Thanks to all the lurkers out there that have +faved this or added it to their alerts. I'm watching you, lurkers! :) And a super big thank you to all those who've reviewed. I love you all. Have a hug and a cookie._

* * *

Shepard let out a sigh of relief as soon as she'd stepped back onboard the Normandy, rubbing her arm across her forehead. Garrus and Miranda shimmied past to go do… whatever Garrus and Miranda did in their free time, while Shepard stretched and tried to relax. The Justicar would be arriving shortly, and she wanted to make sure the asari would be comfortable. She'd never been so nervous; she wanted Samara's approval more than anything else.

"Damn it, EDI."

Shepard glanced up curiously. That had sounded like Alex. She followed the voice up to the helm where a small table had been set up near Joker's seat, and she had to blink at the odd spectacle that greeted her. Alex was sitting alone at the table with a holographic chessboard in front of him, and the other pieces were moving on their own. Was he playing _chess_ with EDI?

Alex glanced across the table at the floating ball that represented EDI's presence. "What are my chances looking like?"

"The odds of you emerging victorious are now approximately 0.08%."

Alex grinned, and Shepard blinked. When _she'd_ played chess with EDI, she'd been given 0.00001% as her chance of winning. Well, there are worse things Alex could be doing, she supposed. _Much _worse.

"Damn, Alex," Joker chimed in without turning away from his console. "At this rate you'll have her beat in… oh, say… a _thousand years?_"

Alex just shrugged. "I've got the time."

Shepard cleared her throat and Alex glanced over his shoulder at her. "Enjoying yourself, Alex?"

Alex raised a brow and moved one of his pieces without bothering to look at the board. "Am I enjoying myself? Shepard, I'm playing _chess_."

"To be accurate, Alex, you are currently _losing_ at chess," EDI added in helpfully, sounding as close to smug as an AI was likely to get.

Alex snorted and leaned back in his chair. "Bah, semantics."

Shepard shook her head. "An Asari Justicar will be coming aboard shortly. I expect you all to treat her with the utmost respect; I _really_ don't need to spark an inter-species incident."

"You're inviting a Justicar onto a ship harboring the galaxy's most deadly bioweapon?" Alex frowned. "Is it just me, or does that just _ooze_ accident waiting to happen?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Alex. Just be polite."

"Polite. Me. I'll get _right_ on that, Commander."

* * *

Alex was bored again. He'd managed to get his chances of beating the damn AI at chess up to a whopping 0.09% before he'd decided it was time to do something else.

He crouched over the tech table in Mordin's lab, trying to ignore the constant jabbering of the salarian nearby while he drew out the plans for some armor upgrades, drawing on what he'd gained from studying the carapace of the Collector he'd consumed. He'd toyed with the idea of somehow working the seeker's paralytic toxin into some of the armory's weapons, but despite how amusing the image of the crew managing to freeze themselves in place on accident was, he decided against it. That would just be something he'd keep to himself.

He glanced to the side at the sound of voices in the com room, easily audible even through the two doors and thick walls separating them. Sounded like Shepard was giving a tour to that blue chick she'd brought on board. Alex sighed and refocused on the layout before him. Maybe if he just didn't make eye contact, the Justicar wouldn't be prompted to attack him like the last one had. The asari Councilor had _not_ been impressed when she'd found out Alex had killed one of their famous peacekeepers.

"…is Mordin's lab. He works on any technology or substances we might have picked up."

Alex shook his head and didn't look up. _Please Shepard. If you have a single tactful bone in that body of yours, take your Justicar and leave. _

"Oh, Alex. I didn't know you were in here."

_So much for wishful thinking._ "Yeah, well, here I am." Alex grumbled, trying to seem as unapproachable and unlikeable as possible.

"Alex, this is Sam—" Shepard's voice cut off in a noise of surprise as a Throw slammed into Alex from the side, sending him into the far wall with an audible denting of the metal. "Samara, what…?"

Alex tuned them out and focused on freeing himself from the force holding him against the wall. He did _not_ like being immobilized. With a snarl, he ripped himself free from the blue field keeping him prisoner and felt the claws spread from his arms. Justicar or not, she had _attacked him_, and therefore he was allowed to kick her blueberry ass back to Thessia where she belonged.

"You harbor an abomination from the Void, Shepard," Samara narrowed her eyes as Alex began to circle them, claws bared. "There is no soul in him. No mercy. I am obligated to destroy the Beast on sight."

"The what?" Shepard asked, looking remarkably like a fish with her mouth open like that.

"I get around, Shepard," Alex muttered, keeping a wary eye on the asari in case she decided to press her luck. "I may have killed a few Justicars a few decades back. They even modified their Code to 'attack Alex on sight' just because of me. I was so honored."

Shepard shook her head and stepped between them. Stupid, but brave. "You're on _my_ ship, Samara. Alex is a member of my crew; as are you. _Your morals are my morals; your Code is my Code._ Remember that? That vow you _just_ took a few hours ago?"

Samara hesitated, lowering her arm but the blue glow did not diminish. Alex kept his guard up. He knew better than to relax around a damn Justicar. "As you say, Shepard. I will tolerate the Beast's presence, but know that once your mission is complete and my oath fulfilled, I will destroy him and you shall be judged accordingly." The biotic field flickered away, and Samara fixed Alex with a steely stare that promised death as she turned and strode away.

Alex let his arms rearrange themselves back to normal as he straightened, staring at the door where Samara had just been. He glanced over at Shepard, who had her hand covering her eyes. "You know she's going to come back and bite you in the ass for that, right?"

"Should I have just let her kill you?" Shepard demanded, looking irritated.

Alex bristled. Shepard thought some asari magician could _kill_ him? If she hadn't gotten in his damn way he would have vivisected that blue bitch and consumed what was left for kicks and giggles. "Don't fight battles that aren't yours, Shepard. You're likely to get killed in the crossfire."

Alex swiped the schematic off the table and hurried towards the elevator, ignoring Shepard's demands to come back. He had to share a ship with a member of an order that devoted an entire stanza of their Code to wiping him off the face of the galaxy. He was entitled to a little sulking.

Or at least he was entitled to beating the shit out of the next person who looked at him funny.

Maybe it was time to see how the Cerberus Bitch's 'personal matter' went.

* * *

**A/N: **_Short chapter is short. I wrote the meeting between Alex and Samara at least five times, and I'm still not happy with it. I did like the idea of the Justicars having a whole stanza of their Code devoted solely to Alex. That sounds like something that would happen to him considering how his luck had been going. _


	13. Chapter 13

"So Shepard."

Shepard sighed and braced her hands on either side of her personal terminal. She'd long since stopped jumping every time Alex materialized behind her like a ghost, although the man had no grasp of personal space and was currently looming over her shoulder. He radiated enough heat to make her painfully aware of how close he was standing.

"Yes, Alex?" she ground out, trying to ignore the feeling of him so close to her back. He enjoyed getting under her skin; Shepard frowned. That was not a good metaphor to use while dealing with Alex Mercer.

"The Collectors are still a threat, right?"

Shepard frowned deeper and turned her head to look at him, surprised to find him suddenly several feet away as if he _hadn't_ just been hovering next to her face. Tricky bastard. "Of course they are. They're abducting entire colonies, Alex."

"Right right. It's just you've had enough time to go around solving everyone's problems, and I was wondering when you planned to start taking the Collectors seriously."

Shepard's eye ticked. "We can't follow them through the Omega 4 relay without the Reaper IFF. You _know_ that."

"And we haven't gone and gotten this IFF _why_…?" Alex folded his arms and raised an unimpressed brow.

"Because we don't know what we'll find there, and I want everyone to be in peak condition before we go tromping through a Reaper corpse."

Alex just shook his head. "Whatever you say, Shepard. Anyway that's not what I came up here for." Shepard made a _go on_ gesture. "I wanted to know why you've left me behind for the past few missions."

Shepard flinched. She had been hoping he would be so busy in the lab he wouldn't have noticed. Shepard _tried_ to be a fair Commander. She tried to rotate the crew she brought with her so everyone got some experience working as a team. And she tried very hard to pretend like watching Alex rip enemies apart and then _eat them_ didn't creep her the hell out.

"You're not the only one on the team, Alex," Shepard pointed out, adopting her 'Commander' voice. "Plus you've been working on those armor upgrades with Mordin. That's more important than killing mercenaries."

Shepard would swear Alex had just growled, but it had been too low and too quiet for her to adequately tell. Suddenly she had the distinctive feeling that there were not nearly enough witnesses nearby to observe this conversation. She could see the man tense like a viper ready to strike, and she took a slight step back to put some much needed distance between herself and the suddenly irate virus.

Alex laughed and she winced. That was not a happy laugh. It was short, cold, and made Yeoman Chambers edge away from them as discreetly as possible. "_Commander_," Alex growled, stepping into her personal space again. "I am going _insane._ Unless you would like me to start _devouring_ your crewmembers, it would be prudent to take me with you once in a while." Shepard's hip met the edge of the CIC and suddenly Alex was _right there_, inches from her face, blue eyes all but glowing in his face as he dropped his voice into a calm, monotone voice that was somehow even more frightening than his growling. "I am not human, Commander. I am a disease wearing human skin, and the longer I go without doing what I was _made_ to do, the more likely it is that I will decide to redecorate the Engineering Deck with the blood and viscera of the smart-mouthed technicians in the drive core. Am I _understood_, Commander?"

Shepard took a deep breath, fingers twitching with the need to grab her pistol and put a bullet between the eyes of the creature invading her space. "I don't respond kindly to threats, Mr. Mercer," Shepard bit out. Alex's eyes flashed and he grinned. _Predator._

"With all due respect, ma'am," _Why is it whenever someone says "with all due respect", they really mean "kiss my ass"? _"that was not a threat. That was a promise. And I keep my promises." His grin widened, too wide for his face, too unhinged to be human. "Now. Am I understood, Commander?"

Shepard narrowed her eyes at the grinning virus. "Suit up. We're leaving for Pragia in ten."

Alex stepped back, his hood slipping to cover his face. "Aye, Commander."

She didn't breathe until he was gone. Shepard would not make the mistake of relaxing around him again.

* * *

There wasn't a whole lot to kill on Pragia, unless you counted the occasional varren or frightened merc. But Alex didn't mind. There was going to be a big-ass explosion courtesy of the big-ass bomb Jack planned to detonate in the facility, and he decided he'd let the lack of carnage slide. This time.

Shepard stopped in front of yet another hologram recording and listened to it while Jack glared at nothing nearby, and Alex shifted feet. This place reminded him _far_ too much of Gentek for his liking. Experimenting on _children?_ Even Alex wasn't _that_ insane. Maybe. Yet. The original Alex Mercer might have been, but Alex 2.0 sure as hell wasn't.

It didn't help that all the scientists he'd consumed were yammering in his head, identifying all the tools they passed and giving him incredibly detailed descriptions of what they could do and what they were for. It wasn't physically possible for Alex to become nauseated anymore, but his typical scowl had turned into a grimace at some point between point A and point B.

Alex frowned as he idly ripped the head off one of the mercs who'd tried to flank them, not really paying attention to the rounds skidding off his armor or the overwhelming scent of fear permeating the room. This entire facility was such a waste. They'd killed dozens, maybe hundreds, of children just to ensure that Subject Zero—_Jack_—survived.

But hadn't he done the same thing? Alex scowled and let his arms reform into claws, dropping his weapon. The krogan and the vorcha up on the scaffolding were really starting to tick him off. They were using cryo rounds. Alex and ice did not mix well.

He raised his fist, ready to slam his claws into the ground and show these mercs exactly what he thought about Pragia and all its twisted experiments, when he idly remembered Shepard was up there in the damn middle of the field. He wouldn't really feel _remorse_ if he _accidentally_ impaled her on a groundspike, but he supposed she was the only thing keeping him from falling into complete and utter boredom.

He'd never tried to control where the spikes appeared before. It had never mattered if there were civilian casualties while taking out the military or the occasional batch of geth. Well, he'd always been partial to trials by fire.

Alex slammed his claws into the ground and cursed quietly as he struggled to keep the biomass from traveling beneath Shepard on its path towards the mercs. Shepard was lucky he was so damn considerate. Finally, _finally_, he released control and watched with a smirk as the massive spikes exploded from beneath the ground and shot straight through the scaffolding to impale the unfortunate mercs up there in any number of creative ways. He allowed himself a small laugh at Shepard's squeak as spikes erupted around her in a tight circle; if she'd moved so much as a foot in either direction, she would have gotten a nasty surprise in the form of a spike up her ass.

He let the mercenaries scream and struggle where they floated impaled before calling the biomass back into the ground, dragging a few of the unlucky ones that didn't get dislodged fast enough underground with the spikes. He pried his claws from the ground and braced himself on some nearby cover, watching the metal dent and protest beneath his considerable mass. The aptly named 'Devastators' were like a punch in the gut. Losing so much biomass all at once never really got any easier, although by now he had the ability to hold so much at once that he could probably have shot off six more before collapsing.

Alex stood and headed nonchalantly down the hole-ridden path and paused next to Shepard, who was still sitting frozen in the middle of her unblemished metal, staring at the spike holes nearest to her legs.

"No time to dawdle, Shepard. On your feet."

Shepard stared at him. "What. The _hell_. Was _that?_"

Alex frowned down at her in a mockery of concern as Jack appeared nearby, whistling at the destruction of the testing chamber they'd been fighting in. "What was what, Commander? Were you injured?"

Jack clapped him on the back with a short laugh. "_Damn_ Mercer. You've been holding out!"

Alex smirked. Jack really was the only member of the crew who wasn't too intimidated to touch him. "I think I broke the Commander, though."

Jack shrugged and hefted her shotgun, heading towards the door. "She'll get over it. Come on; I still need to blow this shithole sky-high."

Alex glanced down at Shepard in time for her to begin crawling back to her feet. He shook his head and strode off after Jack. She had a point, after all.

There was a bomb to detonate.

* * *

Shepard could not take her eyes off of him, even as they rocketed away from the Cerberus facility in the shuttle. Alex was drumming his fingers on his leg, staring idly at the wall, while Jack flipped the detonator switch open and closed, as if unsure if she _really_ wanted to blow the place up.

She could still remember that moment of sheer panic as black spikes shot out of the damn _ground_ in a ring around where she crouched, the only sound the agonized screaming of the mercenaries who had not been so fortunate. It had to have been Alex. Nothing else she knew could have done anything remotely like that. When the spikes had shot back underground she had remained frozen to the spot, afraid that if she crossed one of the holes they would emerge again and drag her underground.

And then Alex had appeared looking as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, asking her if she was all right. Like shit she was all right. If Jack hadn't appeared and dragged him off towards her old cell, Shepard would have demanded some answers on the spot. As it were, she would have to content herself with asking him when they got back to the Normandy.

Jack finally scowled and pressed her thumb over the red button—_far_ too close to the base for Shepard's comfort—and she pounded on the door as a subtle hint for the pilot to _speed the hell up._

As the crack of the explosion reached them and the shuttle began to rock, Alex gripped the arm of his seat so tight that the metal crunched in on itself. His head was bowed so she couldn't see his face, but it almost looked as if he were trembling. Which was ridiculous, because Alex Mercer did not _tremble_.

Shepard frowned. Or did he? She remembered him mentioning the nuke he'd dropped twenty miles offshore, but he'd been sketchy on the details as to what happened after that. Maybe he'd gotten caught in it?

Shepard shook her head and focused on the wall. No one could have survived a nuclear explosion. Not even him. Nothing could be _that_ hard to kill, _that_ resilient, _that_ invulnerable to pain.

…right?

* * *

**A/N: **_Creepy Alex is creepy. I figure if there's one thing that's happened to Alex over the years capable of 'traumatizing' him, it would have been being reduced to a puddle by that nuke on Manhattan. I doubt he's come as close to death since then, even over two hundred years. _


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **_Short filler chapter, because I sat down to write tomorrow's chapter and this is what came out of my fingers instead. Oh Lord... what have I just written?_

* * *

"Lexi—"

"No."

Kasumi paused mid-step, blinking. "But I haven't even asked yet."

Alex didn't even glance up from the book Joker had given him. "I don't care. Whatever it is, the answer is no."

Kasumi stopped in front of him. There was a moment of blissful silence before she _giggled_, and Alex lowered the thin book in irritation. At the look on his face she laughed harder, leaning on the nearby table to stay balanced before wiping would-be tears from her eyes. "Lexi… are you reading…" she snorted, "…_Fornax?_"

Alex paused and glanced back at the small booklet Joker had thrust into his hands with a shit-eating grin and a mumbled _You'll like this, truuuust me._ "Yes. Joker gave it to me." It was actually quite good. He never would have thought to torture people with tentacles that way. As far as gore went, it was pretty nondescript, but he gave it a thumbs up for creativity. "It's enlightening."

Kasumi boggled at him, still trying to hold in her laughter. "Enlightening? Lexi… do you know what _Fornax_ is?"

Alex frowned and looked back at the cover, where some tentacled monster was making a woman scream in agony. "I assumed it was a horror novel. Why else would someone be doing this to defenseless women?"

Kasumi was an incredible shade of red beneath her black hood. "Lexi… Lexi dear. I… oh God… this is…" she snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Lexi that's _not_ a horror novel."

Alex hesitated, and looked back at the cover. But… if it's not—

Alex froze, the graphic illustrations suddenly making an entirely new kind of sense. A horrible, _horrible_ kind of sense. _"You'll like this," _Joker had said. Why would he think Alex would _like _this? Alex growled and stood from his chair, glaring murderously towards the door and seriously considering paying a visit to Joker dearest. "Do you think Shepard would mind if I snapped her pilot in half?"

Kasumi smiled, still giggling. "P-probably."

Alex growled again and pushed past the laughing girl and out the door, the offending book crumpled in his grip. Jeff "Joker" Moreau was going to be drinking through a damn _straw_.

* * *

Shepard leaned against the helm, eyeing the mysteriously amused Joker suspiciously. "What's got you all excited? Finally find a way to shut off EDI's bridge cams?"

Joker smirked. "I may have lent our friendly neighborhood viral abomination some… informative literature."

Shepard raised a brow, and then turned when said viral abomination rounded the corner with a book crushed in one hand, the other shimmering to be replaced with lethal claws, and she idly wondered if she was going to have wipe her pilot off of the windows in a few minutes. Alex paused and took a deep breath, seeming to calm himself down, the claws sliding back into a normal arm, before he pasted on a shark-like grin and leisurely strolled down the hall towards them.

Alex all but draped himself over Joker's chair, making the pilot jump in surprise. "I wanted to _thank_ you for giving me such… _enlightening_ reading material, Jeff," Alex purred, and Shepard decided she did not want to be here.

But it was like watching a ship crash. She couldn't look away.

Joker was looking decidedly uncomfortable now, and he edged as far from Alex as his pilot's seat would allow. "Er… don't mention it. No seriously. Don't mention it."

Alex's grin widened. "Oh but it gave me such _fascinating_ ideas, Jeff." Alex's other arm crawled with red and black tendrils and suddenly a clawed tentacle snaked around Joker's chair to tease his side, and the pilot yelped and would have jumped from the chair if his legs would have been able to support such a move. "Perhaps you'd like me to _demonstrate_, hmm?"

Shepard felt like she was seriously missing a key component to this conversation.

"It was a joke," Joker blurted out quickly, eyeing the tentacle crawling towards his face as if it were about to wrap around his neck and snap him like a twig. And, knowing Alex, it might be about to do just that. "You know… ha ha, humor?" Alex just hummed noncommittally. Joker whined and ducked down in his seat, wide eyes locked on the traitorous appendage. "It was Miranda's idea!" He yelled, all but falling out of the chair as Alex paused, dangerous blue eyes flashing.

"Was it now?" Alex replied in a voice like a thin sheet of glass. "I suppose I should go and thank her for her _generous _consideration." Joker sagged in his seat as if a massive weight had just lifted from his shoulders, and Alex smirked. "Oh don't worry, Jeff. I haven't forgotten about _you_. We'll finish this discussion in _private_, hmm?"

Joker whimpered as Alex straightened and fixed his jacket, dropping the crumpled book in Joker's lap like a warning. He began to stalk down the hall, dipping his head in a nod to Shepard as he passed, and she stared at his back as Joker slid out of his chair and onto the helm floor. Shepard quickly helped him back up and picked the wadded ball from where it had fallen, unfolding it only to make a startled noise as the infamous cover of _Fornax_ leered up at her.

"Joker…" she began warningly, holding the offending book at arm's length as if it were unclean. "Was this _really_ Miranda's idea?"

"Hell no, Commander," Joker replied, pulling his cap low over his eyes and smirking at his console. "But better her than me, right?"

* * *

"So… Alex," Garrus began in an overly relaxed manner. Already Alex didn't like where this was going. He watched warily as the turian vigilante nonchalantly leaned on the table nearby. Alex didn't spend a lot of time in the mess hall, but there was only so much he could do locked up in the cargo bay. At least here he could leer at the crew and make them uncomfortable. Moreso today than usual, oddly enough. "I was, ah, calibrating the Normandy's main guns last night and couldn't help but _overhear_…"

Alex's lip twitched into a smirk. Ah. So _that's_ why everyone was staring at him so uncomfortably today. He interlaced his fingers and watched Garrus attentively, clearly amused.

"Not that I'm one to _judge_, or anything… but some of the guys were, let's just say, _vaguely disturbed_…"

"By what?" Alex asked innocently.

Garrus's mandibles twitched in what Alex took to be a frown. "Alex, she was _screaming_. It sounded like someone was being _murdered_ in there." He paused and turned to stare at Miranda's door, looking alarmed. "She _wasn't_ murdered, though… right?" He looked back at Alex. "Right?"

Alex shrugged. "We were just reenacting a horror novel she'd loaned me. She's fine; I barely even touched her."

Garrus did not look convinced. "Well… all right. Just… next time try to keep it down? Some of us actually have _work_ to do on the ship."

Alex ducked his head to try and hide his grin as Garrus wandered back towards the main battery. He raised his head at the familiar _swoosh_ of a door opening and saw Miranda peek around the corner. His grin widened and he sent her a jaunty wave, making her blanch and dart back inside. Her door slammed shut with an audible _click_.

He could do this all day.

* * *

**A/N: **_If you don't know what Fornax is, go look it up. Or go play Mass Effect. Either one. How you managed to play ME without coming across the infamous Fornax in a store I have no clue, but you're missing out. _

_Did you guys know that Fornax was launched in 2167 CE, and is mentioned on the Mass Effect timeline? Why? Because it's IMPORTANT, that's why. Anyway. Yeah, the idea for Alex reading Fornax wouldn't go away no matter how much I yelled at it, so... here it is._

_No, Alex would not enjoy reading that, Joker. I feel kind of bad for Miran-oh wait. No I don't._


	15. Chapter 15

_He's always hated hospitals. All sterile lines and cold steel, smelling of sickly sweet rot just barely masked by the sharp sting of medicine. It reminds him of a metal slab and masked doctors, pressing a six-inch blade to his torso and no matter how hard he tries he can't even draw enough breath to scream—_

"_Mr. Mercer?"_

_He stops pacing and turns his head, piercing the nurse with silver-blue eyes. The nurse is not smiling. This is his first indication that something is wrong._

_She holds a clipboard to her chest but offers no sympathy beyond a blank stare. Everyone here knows by now not to show him pity._

"_She's asking for you."_

_He knows the path to her room intimately, but this time the short walk seems to stretch on for _hours_. He hesitates at her open door, fingers curling on the doorframe. This is an enemy he cannot fight, and every instinct screams at him to flee._

_He steps inside without knocking. He never knocks. He never has to. He lifts a hand and pushes back his hood. She likes to see his face; the only one he allows to do so._

_She smiles at him from the bed, an angel, _his_ angel, wrapped in ivory and white. He pulls one of the chairs near her bed and carefully sits himself down, flinching when it creaks dangerously. She smirks at him, amused, and he's embarrassed because he knows she'll make a joke about it like she always does._

"_Should lay off the pounds, Alex," she teases with a chuckle, a sound like dry paper. Fragile. Rasping._

"_But the fat people taste better," he offers back, because he never did have a filter on his mouth and she's used to it by now._

_She clucks, disapproving, but there's no heat it in anymore, and she smiles at him. No one else smiles for him. Only her. He loves her smile._

_He shifts in his chair, restless. He clasps his hands together but it doesn't help. He wants to touch her, but she's so fragile, and everything he touches falls to pieces. He has never been gentle, even when he needs to be._

"_I won't break, Alex."_

_She always did know how to read his mind, even when he'd gotten himself lost in it._

_He reaches for her and hesitates, pulling back, before pushing some white hair behind her ear, moving slowly, as if she were made of glass. "No," he agrees, "you've always been strong." He rests one pale hand over hers, not daring to squeeze her fingers like he wants to. "Stronger than me."_

_She smiles, and something tightens in his chest where a heart would be if he were human. "Don't ever change, you hear me?"_

_He smiles softly back, the expression foreign on his face, reserved only for her. "Why change perfection?"_

_She snorts quietly and shakes her head, breathing slowly. One wrinkled hand, softer and more delicate than anything he's ever allowed himself to touch, rests over his own._

"_You know I love you, Alex. Even when you're being an ass." A chuckle and a deep, wheezing breath. "Especially_ _when you're being an ass…"_

_He dips his head, free hand clenching into a fist on his thigh. He flicks wary eyes to the door, making sure no one will see him like this, before looking down at her peaceful smile. He loves that smile._

"_I…" he pauses, head rising to stare as the EKG flatlines, and the pain that stabs him is something more than pain. He lifts a hand and gently closes her eyes, guided by stolen memories, running on autopilot._

_He stands from the creaking chair and pushes it back with his foot, pulling his hood up to cover inhuman eyes._

_He glances at the door again before he speaks, voice a quiet murmur. "I love you too, Dana."_

_And he walks away, head low, out into the night._

_Alone._

* * *

Alex did not dream. He never really had. Not in the sense that humans dream. His mind does not create fanciful wastelands of impossible color and sound, recreating events that never took place and possibly never could.

He rarely slept, not needing it to function, but occasionally when there's simply nothing else to do, he will lean back and close his eyes and _remember_.

The sad thing is that he tends to only relive the memories he tries so hard to forget.

* * *

_He's not surprised at how many people attend the funeral. Dana had always been the social one in the family. She had to be in order to make up for having _him_ as a brother. He doesn't know most of them, and most of them don't know him. He sits on a pew all to himself near the back, head bowed but blue eyes missing nothing. Even now, decades later, he doesn't trust strangers at his back._

_He digs fingers into the wood, uneasy being near so many bodies, so many heartbeats, potential threats, prey. But he holds himself back because these are Dana's friends, and she would want him to be nice to them._

_Not murdering and consuming them outright would have to be enough._

_He watches as people greet each other, speaking in low tones out of respect for a woman who can no longer hear them. Some speak of Dana, and of fond memories they share of her. Others speak of him, and since they lack the courage to do so directly, express condolences to each other._

_But they all speak. He flexes his fingers and stares at them. He hasn't spoken since That Night. He had no one to speak to. No reason to break a silence that so eloquently said everything and nothing all at once._

_But he had to break it tonight. He had to shatter the wall he'd built and break the silence. For Dana. It was… customary, for him to speak. Human. His duty as her only living family, as… as what? The virus wearing her brother's skin? The monster masquerading as a man?_

_He stands and walks down the aisle, bringing his cloud of silence with him, and turns. A room full of strangers stares back at him; a sea of faces that mean nothing, an expanses of black fabric and teary eyes._

_The only black he wears is his jacket, and it is not possible for him to cry._

"_I'm Alex Mercer. Dana is—was my sister." He hesitates. He isn't sure what to say. What Dana would _want_ him to say. He hears the murmurs, sees the skeptical glances. He doesn't address either; he owes them nothing. "She was the one who was good at this. At talking. I don't really know what to say. I've never…" _lost anyone before. _"I'm no stranger to death, but death is a stranger to me." He doesn't look behind him at the casket. It's not really Dana in there. Not really. Just like he's not really Alex Mercer. Everything that had made her who she was is gone. "Talking won't bring her back. Nothing will. But she was my sister, and she put up with me. So… goodbye… Dana."_

_He quickly steps down and heads for the door, head down, hands in the pockets of his jacket. He doesn't stop walking until he hits water, and then he looks up. He has nothing now. No one to come home to, no one to protect, no one to keep him sane, to keep him _human_._

_Nothing to fight for._

_Nothing to live for._

_Nothing to _die_ for._

_He looks out across the water, and the other side has never seemed so far away._

_There's nothing left for him here. Nothing left for him anywhere. He tilts his head back and stares at the sky._

_Perhaps the meaning he's lost on Earth can be found amongst the stars._

* * *

The last thing Shepard had expected to find as she stumbled into the mess hall at almost one in the morning was Alex, sitting alone at one of the metal tables. She hadn't been able to sleep very well; there was too much to do, too much to worry about, too much riding on her success. Every minute she spent asleep was one more minute the Collectors had to abduct another colony.

She hesitates, wondering if maybe she should just take the elevator back upstairs and sit quietly on her bed for the next four hours or so, before deciding to screw it and sat down across from him. Alex didn't even look up at her, eyes still focused on his clasped hands, and she began to worry. Usually Alex would have glanced her way, uttered some snide remark about how justice never sleeps, and managed to creep her out just by sitting there.

And what was he doing up here in the first place? She wasn't sure if he actually slept or not, having never seen him do so, but he rarely left his room on the Engineering Deck unless he needed something from someone.

Or was on a murderous rampage against her flight lieutenant and her second in command, of course.

"Can't sleep?" she finally offers, voice unnaturally loud in the empty room. The nonessential crew are asleep in the Crew Quarters down the hall, although there's a light on in the med bay and Chakwas is probably in there doing something medical-y.

"No."

Shepard takes his monotone answer in stride. She was used to it by now. "Me either. Figured I'd come and get something to eat before Gardner manages to butcher another meal. Those provisions from the Citadel might as well be put to use, right?"

"Do you dream, Shepard?"

She paused mid-rant. What an odd thing to just ask a person out of the blue. He still isn't looking up at her, and for some reason that bothers her far more than the usual intense glare. "When I can manage to string three consecutive hours together, sure. Sometimes. Why? Don't you?"

"I _remember._" Alex finally looked up at her, but his expression was dead. Added with his already sickly pallor, she wouldn't be surprised to find she was conversing with a walking corpse. Moreso than usual. "Things I'd rather not."

Shepard bites off the automatic response of _remember what?_ because that was a sure-fire way to get a claw through her face. She also bites off the instinctive urge to apologize, because she'd done nothing wrong and Alex _hated_ it when people apologized. "Oh. That sounds unfortunate." There were a lot of things Shepard had tried to forget over the years. The night the batarians had raided Mindoir, the horrors on Akuze, the warning branded onto her brain from the Prothean beacon… She could only guess at the kinds of terrible things someone like _Alex_ _Mercer_ would want to forget.

"It is," Alex agreed. "It's times like this I wish I could get drunk."

Shepard's lip twitched into a smile. "Oh? That sounded like a challenge."

Alex met her gaze and an answering smirk flitted across his face. Sitting there across from her, eyes dull from some horror she couldn't ever hope to comprehend, he looked almost human. "Did it now?"

Shepard nodded sagely. Sometimes it was better to pretend. Let the morning face their demons and the night take their tears. But for now, it was time to prove that Commander Shepard could hold her liquor better than the Blacklight virus. "Sure did. Them's fightin' words, Mercer."

Alex's smirk grew into a grin and for once it wasn't aimed at someone's suffering. "All right then, Commander. Care to wager on that?"

"Not on your life, Mercer. Not on your life."

* * *

**A/N: **_Sorry for the slight delay between updates here, feeling kind of under the weather. To make up for it, I added a little tidbit to the last chapter, so go read that! Also, sickness tends to drastically change the tone of my writing and the overall style of it for some unknown reason, so I hope it's still good and not COMPLETELY random. _


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **_Long chapter inc. Read that last one and MAN do I become depressing and weird when I'm sick. I tried to make this one more my 'normal' speed, not sure if I succeeded, but at least there's no funerals in it. That's a plus, right? I will not let my being sick adversely affect my updates. Or, at least, I'll try not to. I will master the sick! Muahaha-*hack* *wheeze*-ha..._

* * *

"And zen… and zen he tells me dat his _wife_ neededs a picture of _Commandard Sheper._"

Alex twirled the stem of his glass between his fingers, keeping an amused eye on the lump of intoxicated goodness slouched over the table beside him. He'd warned her that he'd been attempting to drink himself into a stupor for a good two hundred years, but she'd brushed him off and gone right for the big guns.

Four shots of some kind of blue tequila later, and Shepard was all but singing the turian national anthem backwards. In Greek. Then she'd liberated a half-empty bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy from somewhere and had begun to polish that off. Somewhere in the back of his mind Alex was concerned that Shepard was going to hurt herself, but figured if she could handle _dying_ that she could handle a hangover from hell.

"But yah know wut?" Shepard went on, face as intent and deadly serious as any he'd ever seen. "Turneds out he neva evin had a wife." She frowned, looking disturbed, and then stated in an incredibly enunciated voice, "I think I left my hamster in the fish tank."

Alex wished he had a vid cam for this moment. He'd even settle for one of the old Earth ones that ran on batteries. He wondered if EDI was recording this. He'd ask her later. "Give up yet?" Alex teased, knowing it would only rile her up more. And, true to form, she slammed her palm on the table, rattling the empty shot glasses surrounding her like dead soldiers.

"Never!" she shouted. "I steel has my seekrit weapon, Alix."

Secret weapon? Alex raised a brow and watched as Shepard stumbled over to the previously locked cabinet and began to rummage around. She produced a green container and a blue container, neither of which he recognized, and slammed them on the table, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Ryncol," she pronounced, scrabbling for a relatively clean glass. "Made _fer_ the krogan _by_ the krogan. This stuff'll knock ya on yer arse, set that arse on _fire_, and then make ya ferget it ever happn'd. Ya redy, germ?"

Alex winced imperceptibly. She'd begun calling him that two shots ago, and he hadn't felt the need to correct her. She probably wouldn't remember coming up with it tomorrow, and she had no need to know that was one of Blackwatch's favorite derogatory names for him.

But _krogan_ liquor? This couldn't possibly be a good idea. Perhaps it was time for Alex to assume the oft forgotten Voice of Reason. "Maybe you've had enough, Shepard. You're only human."

Shepard actually growled at him. Well he'd given it a shot. Now he could watch her come apart at the seams with a clear conscience. Not that he would have really cared anyway. "_I'll_ decide wen I've had enuf, _Alix_."

And so Alex watched as she somehow managed to expertly pour the two unidentified liquids together into some kind of green cocktail. How she was able to do that so successfully without spilling a drop would forever be a mystery. She thrust it at him and he took it warily.

He'd never had krogan alcohol before. It was widely known that their regenerative properties made it almost impossible for normal liquor to affect them; he could only imagine the lengths they had taken in order to make a drink capable of knocking them on their backs. But he wasn't about to be outdone by a damn _human_, so he drained the glass in one shot.

That had been a mistake.

He felt like he was going to _die_. It was a thousand bullets, a hundred nuclear explosions, and sixty eight knives jamming themselves into various unsavory positions on his person. He doubled over the table, clutching alternatively at his head and his middle, not sure which one hurt more and was more important to keep attached. He decided he would rather keep his head, so he gripped his temples hard enough to shatter the skull of a normal person, wondering if this horrible sensation of fog and needles would fade before he melted into a puddle of biomass on the stool.

He pried his eyes open and nothing made sense. Why was that table upside down, and why did Shepard look like a Leader Hunter wearing a top hat? Was this what being drunk was like? He had thought he wouldn't be lucid. His senses were screwed to hell, but he was still able to see and commit every excruciatingly confusing moment to memory.

He stumbled from the stool and fell into the wall, hands that were suddenly _not_ hands but claws raking gashes in the metal as Dana asked him if he was all right and Greene kissed him on the cheek, patting his head like a child. Cross pressed a gun to his temple and it squirted him with water, and he could feel his body wavering and flicking with tendrils of ink and flame and he wasn't sure _whose_ body he was wearing now it but it sure as hell wasn't _his_. His claws melted and warped and he wasn't entirely sure he was even remotely human at this point as an ice pick jabbed itself into his eye and the world drained away like sand in an hourglass.

* * *

Shepard pressed the cryo pack to her temple and refused to meet the condescending, disappointed stare Dr. Chakwas was leveling at her. "I _know_, all right? I was stupid and I take full responsibility."

"Full responsibility?" Garrus blurted, gesturing wildly at what could loosely be described as their viral crewmember. "He _literally_ melted into the _floor_, Shepard. What did you slip him? _Acid?_"

Shepard frowned and couldn't make herself look where he was pointing. It had been… disturbing, when Miranda had slipped out to see what all the fuss was about and found Shepard unconscious and Alex… well… "We were having a drinking contest. I remember… tequila. And brandy. And…" she winced, and Garrus pierced her with his a steely eye. "Maaaybe I gave him some Ryncol."

"You _what?_ Ryncol? Shepard—"

"_I know_," Shepard protested, irritated. "It made sense at the time. He drained it like it was water, and then I blacked out." She flicked nervous eyes towards what they'd been able to recover from the puddle of twitching tendrils and disturbingly _human_ looking pieces of carnage. It was like he'd exploded. Or melted. "Is he going to be all right?"

Chakwas frowned and fussed with her all but useless machines. None of them knew anything about Alex that he hadn't voluntarily told them, so any medicine they had was going to prove pretty unhelpful. "I honestly don't know. From what you've told me he seems to possess an incredible level of regenerative capability. This might just be his body's form of a hangover, or he might need medical attention that the Normandy is not equipped to provide."

Shepard winced. "All right… just don't touch… him. It. That. _Whatever_. I don't want anyone getting… er, _consumed_ while he's… indisposed."

Garrus and Chakwas took an obedient step away from the table where they'd put him. Shepard dearly hoped they'd gotten all of him off the floor.

"Garrus, go get Mordin. Maybe a scientist would have some insight on what we should be doing."

Garrus nodded and headed out the door, leaving Shepard alone to face the Stare of Disapproval. She stared dismally at the mass of, well, _mass_ that was Alex Mercer. She felt horribly responsible for this. She'd never had a crewmember _dissolve_ on her before.

Mordin arrived with record speed, skidding to an impressive halt at the mass of twitching tendrils and biomass that was heaped on a sick bed. "Remarkable! Virus has completely reverted to original state. Perhaps to purge toxin from body? This is all of him?"

Shepard shifted feet. "I think so. If he reforms without a hand we'll know for sure."

Mordin sniffed. "Partial regeneration unlikely. Virus fully capable of repairing lost limbs with existing biomass." Mordin did something with his omni tool and waved it over the bed. Shepard jumped when one of the tendrils seemed to reach up and tried to grab him, but Mordin only seemed excited. "Incredible. Body trying to assimilate nearby material to repair damage! Subconscious, then. Instinct?" Mordin took a deep breath and turned to Shepard. "Providing new biomass should aid in recovery. Cannot be certain, but plausible."

Shepard let her shoulders slump. New biomass? Where in the hell was she supposed to get _that?_ She had done some pretty questionable things in her time, but feeding someone to Alex seemed to be crossing a pretty prominent line.

"I don't know about you Mordin, but I don't exactly keep cadavers lying around in case Alex gets a case of the munchies."

Mordin shook his head, tapping away on his tool. "No, needs to be living. Decay detrimental to potential recovery; no cadavers. Small animal, perhaps. Rabbit, mouse, hamster."

Garrus looked up. "Hey Shepard, don't you have a hamster?"

Shepard blanched and backpedaled a step. "What! No! I am _not_ feeding Mr. Nibbles to Alex!" That hamster had been on her ship since Saren! She was _not_ feeding it to a hungry virus.

"Nibbles. Oddly appropriate." Mordin inhaled again. "Hamster small in mass, but should be sufficient. Regeneration should continue unheeded once begun."

Was no one listening to her? "I am not feeding my hamster to Alex."

Garrus just stared at her. "Shepard, which is more important? The life of one of your crew, or your space rodent?"

_But… Mr. Nibbles…_ Shepard sighed, feeling exhausted. "Fine. _Fine._ But _you_," she jabbed a finger in Garrus' face, "owe me a hamster."

* * *

He felt _terrible_. He also felt distinctly inhuman, and he couldn't see or hear anything. It reminded him sickeningly of that day he'd washed up on shore after the nuclear blast, where he'd been no more than primordial goo feeding off the lifeblood of an unfortunate crow. Only this time there was no crow, and he felt very little except that feeling of _incompleteness_ that came with expending too much biomass in too little time.

He felt like half of his damn body was missing. It wasn't enough to regenerate much, and it was such an odd feeling to suddenly lack a body after wearing one for so many years.

He could feel bodies nearby, and he twitched with the need to grab the nearest and tear them apart from the inside out, replace what was missing, sate the hunger gnawing at the back of his consciousness. He didn't even care what they were. He'd take a damn hanar, or hell, another possessed Collector. Just so long as they were warm and alive and close enough for him to grab. One passed too close, and he reached for it, only to fall short and grumble irritably.

He hated being blind. Although, he mused, at this point there really wasn't all that much anyone could do to him and have him be worse off than he already was.

And then there was something within reach, and he didn't care what the hell it was or that it was _far_ too small, he grabbed it with his tendrils and pulled it into himself, dissolving it and assimilating its mass. Immediately, his ability to _feel_ returned, and he _hated it_. If he'd had a physical body, he would have writhed in agony and discomfort. As it was, he just set to work rebuilding himself from the ground up.

Pretty soon he felt the sensation of falling, and then he was on the ground, and he reached blindly out with a half-formed arm still writhing with tentacles and groped for something to hold onto for stability. He needed his eyes. Screw that, he needed his _face_. When the world faded back into view he was still pretty much just an Alex-shaped mass of red and black, but he managed to pull together enough concentration to fix himself and pull on his human skin. His hand slapped metal and he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling until he caught himself on the wall, trying to find purchase.

Something clattered to the ground behind him, and his vision swam. Nothing made sense. He heard heartbeats, the steady thrum of life, and he tensed, despairing how little biomass he had that he could use to make a decent weapon. He'd have to use his hands and his teeth. Like an animal. He _needed_ to consume them. He _had_ to. He was empty, a void inside him that needed to be filled, and then a voice reached him that made him pause.

"…lex? Alex can you hear me?"

_Shepard?_

Alex turned his head blearily to look at her and saw a vaguely Shepard-shaped blur that smelled like prey. The part of him that had existed for two hundred years without losing control broke through and everything snapped back into vivid clarity. He had to get the hell out of here before he started eating the crew.

He'd promised not to, after all.

He lurched towards them, glad they had the foresight to move out of the way, and stumbled out of the med-bay, groping along the walls to guide him where his basic motor skills seemed to have failed.

_Do not eat the crew. Do not eat the crew. Do not..._

_...eat the crew._

Alex blinked to clear his vision and leaned against the wall as he tried to figure out where he could possibly go. He was on a ship. In _space_. The only thing he could consume nearby _was_ the crew. Just getting out of the med-bay without automatically consuming Shepard and whoever else had been there with her had used up a tremendous amount of willpower. The next person who crossed him was most likely going to end up ripped apart and consumed whether he liked it or not.

He could hear Shepard's voice yelling something, probably at Joker, before common sense dissolved into nothing and he knew only _hunger_. He jerked his head towards a sound he'd heard from the men's restroom and slid towards it, slipping inside, idly noting the door had locked behind him.

In the back of his mind he knew he had to stop, that if he kept going forward he was going to do something that would get him in trouble. But he couldn't care less. He didn't even know who he'd grabbed, only that he was alone and warm and screaming and then suddenly he was _inside_ and Alex knew a name and a life and a family and it _wasn't enough._

He needed the streets of Manhattan, filled with Infected and marines and civilians that nobody would miss. The metal door was sealed behind him and he snarled, hammerfists forming on his arms as he slammed into the obstacle cutting him off from all the glorious _life_ he could feel on the ship. It buckled beneath his strength, but it held, and Alex growled.

When he finally broke it out of the damn _wall_ and it crashed outwards, he was greeted by the barrel of a rocket launcher and he acted without thought. A spiked shield formed on both arms and he brought them up in front of him just as the projectile connected, sending him skidding back into the bathroom again.

_Huh,_ Alex idly noted, still dazed from the shock, _that was new._ And then something _cold_ was shooting at him, and he screamed in anger. _Cryo rounds! _They were shooting _cryo rounds_ at him!

He could feel his body stiffening, slowing down, hibernating, and he cursed and fought it until he was inexplicably exhausted, and slumped to the ground.

* * *

Shepard rubbed her neck as they loaded the unconscious and mostly-frozen Alex into the shuttle. She exchanged a pained glance with Jacob, although she applauded his initiative. She'd had her doubts that a rocket launcher would do much good—and she'd been right—but apparently Alex had some kind of gut-instinct to defend himself rather than outright attack. She'd never seen those shields before, and shuddered at the thought that he had somehow evolved even _more_, but what really bothered her was the fact that one of the numerous crewmembers that worked one of the terminals near the CIC was missing.

She was pretty sure she knew what had happened to him, and although she couldn't really bring herself to blame Alex for what Mordin described as primal animal instinct, she still felt responsible. They'd rushed to the nearest uninhabited planet in the system and Shepard made a snap decision that she'd rather unleash him on unsuspecting wildlife than somewhere where he might find a city. She'd leave him down there for a few hours, then try and contact him and make sure he was sane again.

He had _recognized_ her in the med-bay, she was sure of it, but whatever lucidity he'd had that got him away from _her_ had run out by the time he'd found Mr. Wallace. They touched down on the planet's surface and she helped Jacob and Garrus drag him outside. He weighed a lot less than she'd been expecting, but then she remembered he only had a single man's worth of mass and she shivered again.

She pressed two fingers to her earpiece. "EDI, you're positive there's no sentient life on the surface?"

"I have detected no radio transmissions or signs of civilization above ground, Shepard."

Shepard sighed and nodded, motioning for her crew to get back on the shuttle. "We'll stay in orbit for a while, then come down and see if he's back to normal."

Garrus shook his head. "I think his definition of _normal_ is a bit different than ours, Shepard."

Shepard managed a small smile as they lifted off and headed back to the Normandy, her otherworldly crewmember still on the surface sleeping off whatever kind of stasis a full clip of cryo rounds managed to induce.

She was going to seriously owe him an apology for this.

* * *

**A/N: **_Oh Shepard. Don't give Alex Ryncol! Why did it affect him so badly when nothing else would? Who knows! Maybe krogan alcohol is Alex's kryptonite. Wouldn't that be ironic?_

_Poor Mr. Nibbles. And Wallace, who died before he could even become an OC._


	17. Chapter 17

Awareness returned slowly. Alex paused mid-step, blinking, and then decided to find out where the _shit_ he'd ended up. He had awoken in a field, lost all capability for logical thought, and then it was just a blur. Apparently he'd found _something_ big enough to sustain him, because he no longer felt like he would float off into the sky or had the urge to rip the next person he sees apart. He stopped and looked around.

It was some kind of forest, but the trees were wrong. They were red and spiky and this was most certainly not the SSV Normandy. He had flashes of… teeth. And scales. Honestly he had no idea what he'd hunted down and consumed, but it had been _big_.

But how had he gotten down here in the first place? The last rational thought he had was that he'd seen Shepard in the med-bay and needed to get away from her. Then he'd woken up in a clearing and gone bat-shit crazy, and now he was stranded in a forest with no idea where he was or what was going on.

He was pretty sure it was Shepard's fault, though.

He _did_ recall a moment of clarity when he'd discovered a new kind of shield. Experimentally he formed them again, impressed with the density of the dual shields and already calculating improvements he could make and what kind of beating they could withstand before cracking. He replaced the shields with his claws and began to track his path back towards the clearing. Surely Shepard would come back for him.

He hadn't done anything _too_ horrible, he thought. Plus, she needed him. And if not _him_, then his knowledge of the Collectors and ability to kick major ass. Sure enough, there was a shuttle parked in the clearing that definitely had not been there an hour ago, with a nervous-looking Garrus standing outside with an assault rifle.

Alex dismissed his claws and approached, not ashamed to admit he was relieved Shepard hadn't stranded him here and forced him to build some kind of spaceship out of _wood._

"What's up, Garrus?" Alex inquired casually, strolling up to the shuttle and startling Garrus enough that he fired off a round into his chest. Alex paused, looking down as the wound knit itself back together, and then he looked up at Garrus, who was rubbing his neck. "Well, I'd ask if you missed me, but that would be irrelevant at this point."

Garrus didn't bother apologizing. Alex had been hit with worse. "Are you all right? Shepard wants to make sure you're sane before we let you back onboard."

"Garrus, I haven't been sane in several centuries."

He sighed, mandibles flaring. "Good point. Well, you haven't tried to latch onto me yet, so that'll have to be good enough. Get in."

Alex shrugged and hopped on the shuttle, a little surprised Shepard wasn't on there waiting for him. "Where's Shepard?"

"Trying to come up with a good excuse for why Private Wallace is no longer on the ship."

_Wallace._ Now he remembered. That had been that unfortunate person in the restroom when Alex had dug his tentacles into his torso and dissolved him from the inside out. He sure hoped the man hadn't been in a compromising position when that had happened. How embarrassing.

"Right. Now could you kindly explain what happened to me? Last thing I remember is Ryncol and waking up in a clearing."

"I'll… let Mordin handle that." Garrus huffed, then eyed Alex strangely. "Do you always… _melt_ when you get drunk?"

"Melt?" Alex repeated blankly.

"Never mind."

* * *

Alex wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at. When he'd wondered if EDI was recording Shepard's shenanigans, he hadn't considered _he_ would be the one proving the most unstable. Mordin was chattering on happily at his side, pointing out the obvious (_"Complete cellular degeneration evident. Hope Shepard was able to collect any excess biomass from subsequent meltdown"_), and Alex had long since tuned him out.

Experiencing 'complete cellular degeneration' was one thing. It had been weird, and unnerving, and an all-around shitty experience, but it had been _normal_. Weirder things had happened to him, after all. It had felt normal. He hadn't been _afraid_ because he knew he would be fine. He had long since discarded any notions that anything short of a nuclear warhead to the face could actually kill him.

_Watching_ him experience complete cellular degeneration was something else entirely. Was that _him_ clawing at the walls, barely holding on to his humanity? Was that _his_ skin crawling with tendrils as he pulled on the faces of a thousand dead men, only a fraction of which he actually recognized? And suddenly Garrus' comment on the shuttle made a lot more sense.

He'd _melted_. And it was definitely Shepard's fault.

And if her whining and Garrus' amused voice were any indication, they had fed him a _hamster_. That definitely sounded like something that would happen to him.

_Oh yeah, this one time I got drunk and ate a hamster. _

_Cool story, brah._

Alex pulled away from the terminal and flicked into his Infected vision, turning his orange-tinted eyes on the shredded wall across the room. He scanned the floors, the walls, the _air_… he was not willing to risk leaving some piece of him behind. Blue walls and blue people greeted him, and he would have sighed in relief if he had needed breath to live.

Alex was pretty sure he wasn't contagious unless he meant to be. Unlike Greene and PARIAH, he didn't automatically Infect everything he touched. He never had. But he wouldn't take that chance. The last thing he needed was to subconsciously end up turning the SSV Normandy into a floating Space Hive.

He shuddered. Space Hive. Thank _God_ that kind of thing hadn't been a problem back in Manhattan.

"Mordin," Alex finally broke in, overriding whatever the hyperactive salarian was saying, and the doctor obediently stopped talking to listen. When Alex Mercer speaks, you drop whatever the hell it is you're doing and _pay attention._ "What, exactly, is _in_ Ryncol?"

"Excellent question!" Mordin inhaled as he picked up an empty glass with only the faintest traces of green left. The virus in Alex immediately bristled and he backed up a step, skin flicking with the effort of holding in the need to shift his arm into a blade and obliterate the offending glass. Mordin studied his reaction with clinical amusement, and then continued. "Krogan unable to become intoxicated same way as other species. Trace elements of radiation present in all Tuchanka alcohol; only way to replicate effects of inebriation in species with secondary and tertiary organs."

Alex tensed. "How much radiation are we talking about here?"

Mordin shrugged, setting the glass back down. "Single glass enough to register on radiological devices. Consuming all at once not healthy for system; kill ordinary human, stagger krogan."

Alex sighed. "So I basically drank condensed nuclear fallout."

"Dramatization of effects, but accurate comparison."

He ran a hand over his face, glaring at nothing. Shepard had all but given him _radiation poisoning._ That was not okay. Some of the whispers in his mind that remained of his fragile humanity reminded him that it really wasn't her fault, but the larger part of him that was pissed off at her ignored it.

Alex was not happy.

And when Alex is not happy…

* * *

_Heads are going to roll,_ Shepard sighed to herself. She'd frantically reassured the crew that Wallace had _not_ been eaten by a Cthulhu monster someone claimed to have seen going into the men's restroom, and had in fact simply been sent on extended leave due to extenuating circumstances.

The crew were not convinced, but they wouldn't question their Commander's judgment at least.

It was a shame that Private Wallace was going to encounter a raiding party of Blue Suns mercs while heading home to visit his aging mother and that they would dispose of the body in such a way that it would never be found.

Shepard pushed her head against the wall. So long as no one looks too closely at that excuse, _maybe_ no one would come poking around wondering why she has a man-eating virus living on board her ship.

Speaking of man-eating… Shepard sighed. Alex. He was back on the ship, now, according to Garrus. She was going to have to apologize. There simply wasn't any other way around it. But what could she say? _Sorry I fed you acid in liquid form and made you disintegrate against the wall. By the way, you owe me a hamster._

And Alex hated apologies. He'd told her they were pointless, seeing as how it didn't fix anything, and she hated giving them almost as much as he hated to hear them in the first place. Maybe she'd just ask him what she could do to make it up to him. Let _him_ decide what was fair.

She stiffened. So long as whatever he picked didn't involve herself being eaten or subjected to whatever it was he had done that had Miranda white as a sheet for a solid week. Who knows? Maybe he'd have a spontaneous burst of compassion and forget the whole thing had happened.

She jerked at the sudden pounding on her door, and EDI's oh-so-helpful voice informing her that _Alex is requesting permission to enter._ The AI had never called him anything other than Alex, even when she called everyone else on the ship by their surname. Joker had recently been promoted to "Jeff" rather than "Mr. Moreau," but besides that only Alex had the unique privilege of being on a first name basis with the ship.

She wondered why that was.

"Let him in, EDI," Shepard called, already questioning the wisdom of doing so. But if he really wanted in, a door was not going to be enough to stop him. The demolished men's restroom entrance was proof of that.

The door clicked green and swished open, revealing a rather ticked-off looking Alex with his arms folded and his hood hiding everything but his inhuman eyes in shadow. She shivered. She had no way of knowing if he was really sane or not. The sight of him clawing at the wall as he struggled to keep his feet, face a mask of sheer animalistic _hunger_, flashed briefly in her mind and she dismissed it irritably.

This was not the time to freak out.

"Commander," Alex greeted in a voice that could freeze molten rock. Shepard flinched. He only ever called her Commander when he was supremely pissed.

"Alex," she replied, purposefully using his first name in the hopes to coax him to do likewise. Formality was not the way to approach this. "What can I do?"

That got him to pause, one foot in the room. It wasn't often she could catch him by surprise, and she felt a bit of triumph that she'd managed to do so at all. She could tell just from the intensity of his stare at the tense of his posture that he knew exactly what she was asking.

He stepped fully into the room and the door clicked shut innocently behind him. This room was not nearly large enough for both of them. Shepard busied herself fiddling with a datapad resting on her desk nearby, anything to occupy her hands. He owned the space he walked through just by _existing_, over six feet of immortal predator staring at her as if nothing else in the world mattered.

That kind of single-minded focus was exactly what made him so dangerous.

"You fed me radioactive krogan alcohol, Shepard," Alex finally mused dryly, tone warm enough to knock some of the chill out of the silence that had followed his arrival. And he was calling her Shepard again. That was good.

"I also fed you my hamster, but I don't see you whining about it," Shepard shot back before she had a chance to process her words properly. Was she _really_ joking about this? This had the potential to become a very dangerous conversation. She needed to redirect it. Now. "For the record, I won that drinking contest."

His expression twitched, and she wasn't sure in which direction. It was almost impossible to read him unless he flat out told her what he was thinking. "No you didn't," he replied smoothly, stepping closer into her personal space. She stepped back appropriately, using the pretense of straightening her desk to avoid looking at him. But she kept him in her peripheral vision. He was a hunter, and she had no intention of being his prey. "According to EDI's video log, you passed out before I did."

Shepard looked up at that. There was a _video log_ of that? Well there goes all her credibility as a commanding officer. She was almost positive that would end up on the Extranet somehow. "Well damn."

Now he smirked, and she relaxed a fraction. As demented and disturbing as seeing Alex smile was, it was better than his scowl, and _far_ better than the neutral expression that generally preceded someone dying.

"Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you, Alex," Shepard bit, exasperated and more than a little unnerved having him in a closed room with her, circling her the way he was. It reminded her of those varren fights she'd watched with Wrex back in the day.

The varren that won were the ones that circled.

He paused and dipped his head down, hiding what little she could see of his face beneath his hood. Anyone else and she'd have assumed he was contemplating it. But the tense of his shoulders was too tight for that, the clench of his fingers in the leather of his jacket too tight. He was agitated, and an agitated Alex Mercer was not someone she wanted within arm's—_or tentacle's_—reach.

"Well…" he mused, voice so casual that it had to be forced. "There is this place I need to be…"

* * *

**A/N: **_My chapters seem to be getting longer. I am apparently long-winded while ill. Oh well! And juuuust in case no one caught this, those are "Heller's" shields he used. I'm going to start having him adapting some of the cooler abilities from Prototype 2, since the way I see it, Heller got those skills from Alex's Evolved minions, and they could have only gotten them from Alex in the first place. *cough* bio-bomb *cough*_

_Do I smell a loyalty quest?_


	18. Chapter 18

"Commander," Joker finally managed after staring for a good minute in confusion. "Why are we going to Earth? Did the Illusive Man give you a lead?"

Shepard sighed. She really hadn't bothered to think up a good excuse for why she was taking them so far out of their way. But even _she_ wasn't entirely sure what they were going to be doing there. She only knew she'd asked what Alex wanted and this was what he'd picked.

"_I have business on Earth. The United North American States. I'm actually overdue by several weeks; joining your ragtag group of misfits has pushed back most of my normal habits."_

Asking what business he had only earned her a warning glare and a careless flick of his wrist. A dismissal in everything but name.

"_Don't ask questions, Shepard. Do this for me, and I'll pretend you didn't try to poison me with Ryncol."_

"It's a favor to Alex," she admitted, and Joker rolled his eyes, already plotting a course. "It's either this or let him simmer in his anger and snap again when we least expect it. This seems safer for everyone involved."

"So we're taking the galaxy's most dangerous bioweapon to Earth. Yeah. That sounds nice and safe."

Shepard shook her head and stared out the window as they approached the Mass Relay.

"Just sayin', Commander."

"I know," Shepard sighed again, leaning on the console nearby. She was nervous as hell, sure. She could only guess as to what kind of _business_ a creature like Alex Mercer could possibly have on Earth.

She prayed it wouldn't involve any fighting.

She did _not_ want to try explaining that to Anderson.

* * *

Alex pressed his palm flat against the window, watching as Earth grew larger in the distance. It was always so strange seeing it like this. Brown, glowing with the lights of over eleven billion human beings…

It never got any easier. This was the planet that hated him, that wanted to hunt him down and eradicate him from existence, that wanted to pretend he had never been created. But he wouldn't forget. Even after humanity had long since forgotten about the events of 2008, he would remember.

After all, he'd been at the heart of it all.

He heard the door whoosh open and turned his head to glance at Shepard out of the corner of his eye.

"We need a destination, Alex. _Earth_ is not really a valid landing zone."

"New York," he replied immediately. "As close to Old Manhattan as you can get."

Shepard hesitated. He wasn't sure how much she really knew about the Outbreak, but it was enough for her to be suspicious. He looked back out the window. "You know that's restricted airspace, Alex."

He stiffened and turned to face her fully. "_As close as you can get._"

Shepard's lips thinned before she nodded and left to relay the instructions to Joker. Alex sighed and glanced one more time at the surface of Earth before following her to the CIC.

It never got any easier.

* * *

There was no way on… well, on _Earth_ that she was letting Alex go down there alone. Unsupervised. Surprisingly, he didn't protest the notion but claimed he wouldn't be slowing down for them. Not entirely sure what that meant, she agreed and suited up. No sense being unprepared, after all. Not with the way her week's been going.

They docked in New York, but Old Manhattan could only be reached by shuttle. Shepard was all for hailing a cab and taking it over, but Alex wanted to walk.

No. Actually, Alex wanted to _run_.

And the man could _run._

He easily outpaced the shuttle she and Garrus were on, even on foot as he was. It was… well, inhuman. He leapt over debris and obstacles and barreled through security checkpoints, and Shepard knew she was going to have a lot of paperwork to do when this comes back to bite her in the ass.

It was all they could do to keep him in sight. Old Manhattan was an island monument; it wasn't as advanced as the rest of the state, and some of the skyscrapers were still the originals. But almost no one used the streets, and some of the debris that Alex cleared looked to be ancient. He led them deeper than Shepard had ever gone on previous shore leave.

He led them into New York Zero, which even now, two hundred years later, still bore the scars of conflict.

"Shepard," Garrus muttered uneasily as the shuttle began to touch down. This was a no-fly zone. Really, they shouldn't be in here at _all_. "Where is he taking us?"

Shepard didn't have an answer to that. "Come on. Don't let him out of your sight."

* * *

Some things never changed. A few of the buildings were newer, shining with that familiar chrome and glass, but others were just as he remembered them. He closed his eyes and could see the city laid out before him as he perched on the Manhattan skyline, the sky tinted red from the Infected Zones and Hives crawling across the city like a festering sore. He opened his eyes again and wondered if he'd managed to lose his babysitter yet.

He stopped in Times Square, standing on the patch of repaired concrete that had burst outwards and revealed the one enemy he'd ever faced that brought him close to death.

_Elizabeth Greene._

The name still made him wince and caused the whispers in his mind to rise into hoarse shouts raging like angry hornets. He shook it off and glanced to the side. Not many people lived in New York Zero anymore. It was more a glorified corpse than a city, a testament to an event no one wanted to remember, but couldn't afford to forget.

He sprinted at the nearest building, hitting it at a familiar ninety degree angle and casually disregarding several laws of physics. Gravity had been his bitch for long enough that the sharp change in landscaping didn't even faze him. It was easy to fall back into old habits. Duck behind ledges, leap from rooftop to rooftop, shake pursuers with sheer speed and agility that still went unmatched to this day.

Finding the apartment was easy. The buildings around it had risen over the years to blot out the sky, but not this one. No contractor in the city would touch this building if they valued their life. Alex had made sure of that.

He paused by the familiar door. A _real _door, not one of the newer ones that opened without touch. He stared at it for a while before leaping away. He wasn't here to reminisce. He did enough of that in his sleep.

He shatters the asphalt when he falls, not bothering with flair or finesse, and pushes the gate off its hinges. He hates it here. He hates the sound of the wind in the silence, of the loose earth underfoot, of the sight of all those hunks of unrecognizable rock with faded names and dates that he pretends not to see.

He's not here for them.

It isn't anything spectacular. It isn't flashy or impressive. The little stone cross is tucked away in an overgrown corner, eaten by moss and rain, easily overlooked if you don't know it's there. The stone is covered in tick marks. Dozens of them. Enough so that if you didn't know where to look, you'd never find the name beneath all the scratches.

Alex pauses in front of it, letting his right arm ripple and reform into claws. He's running out of space.

He kneels in front of it and carefully nicks another year on the crumbling surface, running his normal hand over the weathered edges, amazed it's lasted this long.

_One hundred and thirteen. _Alex lets the claws fade away and he straightens. He doesn't say anything. He knows she's gone, that she won't hear him. He never brings anything either.

The only thing she'd want him to bring is himself.

Alex steps back and glances to the side, at the cross tilted at a dangerous angle and sheared at the middle. There's graffiti on this one. He doesn't care to read what it says. He'd put it there himself, the same day he'd buried Dana. He takes the necessary step to the right and stares down at it, unblinking.

No one cares about this stone. No one bothers to cut the grass around its base or clean off the filth of a hundred years' mistreatment. No one washes away the slurs, the curses, the hatred scrawled across its surface in red and black paint. He crouches and sets the severed half back where it belongs, balanced precariously on the tilted monument.

This is the grave of a dead man. A madman. A murderer. A _monster_. He hears Shepard approaching with all the subtlety of a thresher maw and glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

She stops for breath and looks at the mistreated grave he stands before, blinking. "Whose is it?"

Alex reaches with his foot and knocks off the top half again, watching it fall to the ground. "Mine."

* * *

Shepard isn't entirely sure what to say to that. The man came all the way to Earth to visit his own grave? She feels a stab of pity for him; it was obvious that no one took any care with his tombstone, although the ones around it are all but pristine. Well, the one directly to its left is covered in what looks like tally marks, but she can't be sure.

"I come here every year," Alex continued. "I'm late."

"Oh." Shepard frowned, and then glanced at the marked grave again. "You come all the way to Earth just to look at your own tombstone?"

"This is the only way we can be together."

Shepard blinks and looks again at the marked up stone to his left. "Whose…"

"My sister. Dana."

You could have knocked Shepard over with a feather. Alex had a _sister?_

_Had_ being the key word there. All those marks… Shepard's eyes widened. How long has he been coming down here? "How did she die?"

Alex glanced at her, and she noticed his face was carefully blank. "She was old." He looked back at the cross. "The first few years, Blackwatch waited here for me." Here he grinned, looking manic in the odd lighting. "I quickly disabused them of the notion that my sister's grave was an appropriate place to stage an ambush."

Shepard frowned. "Is this why you wanted to come to Earth?"

"Is there anything more important than family?"

She looked at him quickly. That had not sounded like the Alex she knew.

Alex shook his head and turned to go. When Shepard didn't move to follow, he paused and looked back at her. "She kept me human, gave me something to fight for, to protect. She was the only one who ever smiled for me." He hesitated, then shook his head again and continued walking. "Come on, Shepard. Let sleeping dogs lie."

She watched as he rounded a corner and vanished, before turning back to the broken cross bearing jagged letters that just faintly made up the word _Alexander. _

Shepard paused, conflicted. She knelt in the grass and hefted the massive top half of the cross and set it back in position, making sure it was as balanced as it was likely to get. She wiped at the dust and pulled away the vines, reading beneath the paint and the crumble of time.

_Alexander J. Mercer_

_Memento Mori_

* * *

Alex watched as Earth faded into the distance, before vanishing in a beam of light as they hit the relay. One hundred and thirteen years. He always feels a little calmer, a little more _human_ after visiting. He smirked. Even now, years after her death, she can still make him remember who he is. Maybe one day he won't need a crumbling stone to remind him of all that he'd lost, all that he'd fought and killed for.

But for now, he would focus on the mission. If Dana was alive, she would be working nonstop, doing whatever she could to stop the Collectors from abducting all those colonies.

So he'd do it for Dana. He did everything for her anyway. He grinned. He'd bring her the head of their general. She'd squeal and hide on a chair, yelling at him for bringing something like that into the house, and he'd laugh and chase her around with it until he took pity on her and threw it out the window onto the street.

For Dana.

* * *

_**Memento mori - **"Remember your mortality." (Mmm thank you SoulVoid87. Thought there was more than one interpretation for that, but this one matches just as well.)_

**A/N: **_Noticed a few of you are mind readers and knew what was going to happen. Are you lurking in my brain again, readers? Get out of there! It's off limits! I considered having someone attack them, but figured I'd give Alex a break. I mean it's his sister's _grave _people. _


	19. Chapter 19

"This is a joke, right?"

Shepard rubbed the back of her neck as Alex stared at the datapad she'd handed him. After that incident with the Ryncol, she felt it would be prudent to inform her rather radiation-sensitive companion what they would be facing.

"_Radiation exposure._ You're taking me to a planet where the sun is emitting _radiation exposure_. Do you _like_ seeing me come apart at the seams, Shepard?"

"Look, if you don't want to risk it, I can take Grunt instead." She folded her arms, cocking a brow. She _really_ wanted Alex to come. If Tali were in danger, she figured bringing along her one-man wrecking ball would be a good Plan B. But if her crewmember just so happened to _melt_…

Alex frowned, still staring at the data she'd shown him. She could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he flew through options faster than her mind could have ever hoped to match. "How are you guys going to deal with the radiation? It'll shoot your shields all to hell."

"Take it slow, I guess. Try and stick to shade."

Alex didn't even look up at her. Shepard began tapping her foot. She'd like to get this out of the way some time in the next cycle.

"You know, you could always just wear _armor…_"

Her answer to that was a low growl. "Armor is restricting. I wouldn't be able to use anything but a gun without rupturing the seals." He finally handed the datapad back and stared at the wall. "How long do you expect it will take to find the quarian?"

Shepard blinked. Alex was being strangely amenable to her ideas. She decided not to look a gift varren in the mouth. "A few hours at most. Any longer and we'll have to take cover from the sun until our shields recharge."

Alex flexed his fingers and then fixed his eyes back on her. "Give me an hour. I have an idea."

* * *

He did not like this idea.

He did not like it at all.

Alex growled as he stared at his arm, not so much seeing it as seeing _through_ it. He'd never tried to upgrade his armored form before, but if he was going to have to survive hours of radiation it would have to get an overhaul. He closed his eyes and sifted through his web of memories until he found the one he had shoved to the back of his head and steadily ignored.

Every time he tapped into the Collector's memories, it felt as if he was being _watched_. He didn't care much for being watched inside his own head. The Collectors didn't wear armor, but their carapaces gave just as much protection as shields generally did. If he could combine that kind of durability with the natural regeneration of his own form, it _might_ buy him some extra time out in the sun before he begins to disintegrate again. Shepard's suggestion of wearing armor with a shield generator held merit, of course, but did he really feel like sacrificing his ability to shapeshift or do anything other than fire ranged weapons for a few extra pain-free seconds in the sunlight?

Not especially.

He felt the familiar crawl of the biomass over his shape and waited until the skittering stopped before opening his eyes again. Well shit, he looked like a damn Collector now. A Collector with a regular-shaped head and body, but a Collector nonetheless. With a frown, he tried to tint the color darker, just so Shepard wouldn't have a heart attack and open fire on him when he first walks out like this.

Experimentally he shifted through all of his weapons just to make sure this new armor was capable of doing so. It was adequate. He'd be slower like this, and not as flexible, but if it meant he wouldn't end up cooking inside his own skin, he'd be willing to make that trade.

He dismissed the strangely Collector-esque armored form and headed for the Armory, but paused halfway to the elevator. If the sun could fry shields and disrupt communications, chances were pretty high that any unshielded weaponry weren't going to last long. He growled irritably. Ah well. It would give him a chance to try out those new shields of his, he supposed.

When he showed up in the cargo hold, Shepard and—_surprise surprise_—Garrus were already waiting for him. Alex made an unimpressed noise as he eyed them. Helmets up, sniper rifles slung across their shoulders…

"You remember that talk you gave me about not being the only person on the team, Shepard? I think you forgot to tell Garrus that."

Garrus shifted feet and Shepard just frowned at him from beneath her visor.

"Are you ready, Alex?"

Alex sighed and rolled his shoulders. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess. Don't freak out."

"What?"

Alex let his armor crawl over his frame and, sure enough, Shepard had a pistol trained on him as soon as the trademarked yellow eyes flashed out at her. "I upgraded."

Shepard lowered her gun warily. "You look like a Collector."

"Congratulations, Shepard. You've successfully stated the obvious."

Shepard eyed him again before turning for the shuttle. "All right," she began as they filed in and began the descent onto Haestrom. "We're looking for Tali'Zorah vas Neema, an old friend of Garrus and I. She's a mechanical genius and an excellent engineer, not to mention a crack shot with a shotgun. EDI found geth signatures in orbit, so it's safe to assume the quarians have run into some trouble."

Alex tilted his head as he stared at the wall, curious. The geth relied heavily on shields since their armor plating was so thin. How did they get around the radiation?

_Damn. It's times like these I wish geth weren't machines._ He'd never successfully consumed a geth. There simply wasn't any biologic material in a machine that he could assimilate, not to mention that trying to plug into the geth Consensus would probably give him a massive headache.

"…paying attention? Alex?"

He blinked and turned back to an expectant Shepard. "What?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind. Let's just hope we're not too late."

* * *

Alex was getting irritated. How many damn geth _were_ there anyway? From the chatter going on between Shepard and some quarian named Kal'Reegar, he had gathered that the only quarians left alive were him and the Tali character they were looking for.

The radiation was a bitch. He had to swing under cover and wait out his body's ability to heal itself every few minutes or so, Collector upgrades or no. He was _not_ enjoying this. Shepard and Garrus were faring better, since their shields replenished faster than he was able to fight off radiation sickness, but he was pleased to announce that his kill count was higher than theirs by several Primes.

He had discovered several years ago that his claws were ineffective against most geth units with shields worth a damn, so he'd resorted to keeping his blade on his left and one of his new shields on his right like some kind of damn viral knight. This made him almost unbearably slow. He could still sprint much faster than Shepard or Garrus could manage, but leaping over things in his way was all but impossible.

At least he could smash through them with his shield like a battering ram.

_ZEUS smash!_ Alex chuckled to himself as he planted his shield and barreled into one of the Primes that had wandered out into the open, knocking it off its feet and slamming it into the hunter that had been sneaking up behind it. Fighting geth was always so anti-climactic. There wasn't any great smattering of gore or decorating of his armor with crimson and blue, and if he gets injured there's nothing to heal himself with unless he wants to turn on Shepard or her blue alien friend. He did find out the hard way that taking the heads off the geth tended to make them explode.

So there was that, at least.

When they finally found Kal'Reegar, the quarian was all but ready to throw himself into the fire and martyr himself—which sounded fine to Alex considering he had a suit puncture and there was no way to know how bad it really was—but Shepard talked him out of it. She really was quite persuasive when she wanted to be.

Alex had consumed a few quarians before. Most of the technological knowledge he used today he'd learned from those quarians; humanity didn't give them enough credit.

He peered around the corner and saw a Colossus repairing itself up on a platform, and he grinned beneath his helmet. Now _that_ was a challenge. Geth Colossi were rare in enclosed spaces like this, and a little overkill for a single quarian as far as Alex was concerned.

"The Colossus is mine," Alex growled, shifting his blade and readying his shield for when Shepard gave the all-clear.

"Is your friend mad?" Reegar protested.

"Yes," Shepard replied in a bland voice before glancing over the cover at their opposition. "You need cover fire, Alex?"

Alex snorted. "No. Just keep the snipers off me."

He hefted his shield and bolted out of cover, immediately feeling the odd prickling sensation of numerous energy rounds impacting his shield and armor. The geth had obviously been studying him as much as he had been studying them, since they'd already adapted to the tactics he'd been using so far. They had spread out and were never near enough where he could take out more than one at a time, and more than once he saw them get up and move when he was preoccupied.

This just would not do.

He slammed his blade through the torso of the nearest geth and idly noticed a bunch of tendrils crawling over the unfortunate synthetic, so he flung it at the nearest geth he could see and then paused when the first promptly exploded with tentacles. They latched onto everything in sight. Cover, loose barrels of explosives, other geth… and then they retracted and _exploded_.

Alex laughed. Holy shit. Forget rocket launchers. He could make his _own_ explosives now. Out of _other enemies_. Alex approved.

But there was still a Colossus glaring down at him, firing rockets at him which he dodged with as much agility as the armor and the shield allowed. He raised his shield and managed to actually _reflect_ one of the shots back at the startled geth, which huddled in on itself to repair.

_Screw that._ Alex leapt through the air, dismissing the shield as he brought his blade overhead like a guillotine, slamming down on the prone geth just huddled there like a sitting duck. He cut through shields and armor as irrelevant and severed the Colossus neatly in half, watching as the two halves twitched and sparked before exploding.

He paused before straightening from his crouch, cracking his neck and waving his free arm at Shepard and the others. "That counts as ten, right?"

"It counts as _one_, Mercer," Garrus shouted back. Alex just growled and waited for them to catch up.

Alex kicked at one of the dead geth while Shepard and Garrus headed into the locked room, sending it flying. With a shrug, he followed them in, looking around and shaking some geth off his blade.

"Shepard, look out!" an unfamiliar female voice cried out seconds before something impacted him in the face and sent him reeling back. He hit the ground with a thud, staring at the ceiling as the world swirled back together.

He was really getting tired of people shooting him in the face.

_No respect. No respect at all._

* * *

**A/N:** _Well in Tali's defense, if I saw Alex walking up behind Shepard looking like a Collector with a huge sword as an arm, I'd probably have shot him in the head too. _

_And oh goodness me this story now officially has more reviews than anything I've ever written. Yay! Hugs and cookies for you all!_


	20. Chapter 20

Shepard barely resisted the urge to laugh.

Barely.

Alex was still on his back, 'normal' hand twitching, as his face rebuilt itself in a familiar mass of crimson and black, and Tali was staring at him as if looking into the eyes of a demon. Alex planted his blade into the ground and heaved himself to his feet, leaning on his sword arm, as he jerked his neck to the side and it cracked back into place with a sound that even made Garrus wince, empty face staring in their direction as slowly but surely his Collector mask reformed to hide the writhing biomass beneath.

When the yellow eyes of his new armor flashed back open and fixed on them, Tali shot him again.

That time, Shepard _did_ laugh. Tali swiveled quickly to stare at her, purple eyes wide behind her mask, as if Shepard had suddenly gone insane.

Alex growled low from behind them, a sound Shepard had become frighteningly familiar with, but that sent Tali back a step as he staggered up to them. She reached out an arm to bar his path, aware that if he really wanted to, he could simply walk _through_ her to get to his target, but he obediently stopped, blade half-raised as if contemplating cutting down her quarian friend.

The hole in his chest from Tali's shotgun swirled back together into a mass of black Collector plating and the yellow eyes stared unwaveringly at his current target.

"Alex," Shepard said warningly, pushing back lightly with her arm. She felt like she was scolding a dog for biting someone.

Oh how Alex would _kill her_ if he knew she'd compared him to a dog.

The black armored form heaved a sigh with breath that Shepard knew for a fact he didn't need, and he relaxed a bit, the blade crawling with tendrils until a normal arm was left in its place.

Shepard lowered her arm and turned apologetically to Tali, who still had wide eyes locked on what looked for all intents and purposes to be a black Collector. "Tali, this is Alex. He's a member of my team."

Alex flexed his fingers. "Kindly refrain from shooting me again."

Tali all but dropped her shotgun. "_Keelah!_ I'm so sorry! I had—I mean—he is—" She looked like she wanted to pounce on him and make sure he was uninjured, which was _just_ like Tali, but she settled for twisting her hands together nervously. "I thought he was…"

"…a Collector," Shepard finished, more amused than anything else. "I told him that when we left the ship."

Alex growled again, and Tali stepped back nervously. "What would you expect me to look like, a damn elcor?"

Shepard ignored him and smiled at Tali. "It's good to see you're safe. Did you get that data the Admirals needed?"

Shepard hadn't thought it was possible to vocalize a scowl, but Tali managed it flawlessly. "Yes," she all but spat, "and it only cost me my entire squad. I hope the Admirals think it was worth it."

"Not your _entire_ squad, ma'am," Reegar called as he limped into the room, holding his ruptured side.

"Reegar! I'm so glad you're alive," Tali sighed with relief.

Reegar chuckled and then glanced at Alex. "Commander, your crew are some mighty strange individuals. Bug boy here all but took out a Colossus on his own."

"Bug boy?" Alex muttered under his breath, and Shepard filed that away for future name calling needs.

You never knew when she might need it.

* * *

Alex had never been more relieved to see the shuttle land nearby. He wanted to go to his room in the cargo bay and lock the door just to escape Tali's incessant apologies. He'd already forgiven her. Hell, even _Garrus_ had shot him once and Alex hadn't held it against him. If he went around killing everyone that ever shot him in the head or the chest, the galaxy would be a very small place.

Oh wait, he _did_ go around killing everyone who shot him in the head or the chest.

So maybe he hadn't completely forgiven her yet.

As soon as the shuttle door closed behind him, he dropped his armored form and let his biomass reconstruct his normal shape. Tali jerked back in shock and he half expected to get shot again, but she managed to contain herself.

"He's _human?_" she asked in clear disbelief. "_Keelah_, but how did you do that?"

Alex hesitated, flicking blue eyes to Shepard, who shrugged. "I'm not human," he put out there bluntly, turning to sit on one of the benches, folding his arms.

"You're not?" she asked, confused.

"No. I'm a virus."

Now she was just staring at him. "Really," she drawled, sarcasm dripping from the word with such potency that he actually raised a brow. "Shepard, you truly know how to recruit the strangest people."

"He's being serious, Tali," Shepard offered almost apologetically. "It's a long story, but you're talking to a living bioweapon."

Tali stared at her a moment before pulling up her omni tool and waving it over Alex, who just grunted in annoyance. He got enough of the orange light routine from Mordin. Even behind her purple mask Alex could see her eyes widen.

She sat down on one of the benches and just stared at whatever it was her tool was showing her, so Alex shrugged and turned to Shepard.

"So now that we've got your quarian, can we go get that damn IFF already? I've got Harbinger scratching at my head every time I close my eyes and it's really starting to piss me off."

It was really beginning to grate on his nerves. He wasn't sure if it was just residual memories from that one damn Collector—_never again; I am never consuming a Collector again_—or if the Reaper was actually trying to _talk_ to him.

Alex didn't know which option bothered him more.

It wasn't _words_ so much as _feelings_ and _images_. A vague sort of prodding that felt like Greene's half-assed attempt to control him when they'd first met and failed spectacularly.

_That_ bothered him.

The last thing he wanted was for some upstart Reaper to go poking around in his head more than it already was.

"Not yet," Shepard bit back, irritated. Alex hid a smirk. It was so easy to rile her up. "We still have to find that assassin on Illium, and some of the crew are distracted."

Alex sighed dramatically, flopping back in his seat. "All right. Let's go solve everyone's damn identity crises. Not like the galaxy's in imminent danger or anything."

Tali lifted her head and turned to Shepard. "_Where_ did you find him?"

"Don't ask."

* * *

**"**_**Why do you resist us?"**_

_Because you're damn annoying, that's why._

Alex glared at the ceiling of his cargo hold. He was about one more smart-ass Reaper comment about _genetic destiny_ from gouging out his own eyes with his claws. He made his own damn genetic destiny. He wasn't about to let some giant metal squid tell him what to do. So eye-gouging or going and murdering the first person who makes eye contact.

_Damn_ but that second option sounded appealing…

Alex sighed irritably. He was officially on probation with Shepard since The Wallace Incident, and if he was seen so much as _glancing_ at a member of the crew, Shepard had threatened to pump him full of cryo rounds and send him out the airlock until he learned some manners.

**"**_**Virus; you are considered… malleable."**_

_Malleable?_ That was a new one._ Just shut the hell up. I mean it._

**"**_**You could have been useful."**_

_Oh yeah? Well shit happens. Get over it._

Alex swung off the desk he'd laid down on and headed for the elevator. He felt so honored that the oldest and creepiest of the Reapers had managed to worm its way into his head. Really. He did. He was going to punch Shepard in the face the next time she asks him how he's feeling.

_I feel great, Shepard. So great in fact, that let me give you this token of my appreciation in the form of my foot up your ass._

He could do it, too.

It wouldn't be pretty, or particularly gratifying, but he could do it.

He tapped his foot in a staccato rhythm as the elevator wormed its way up a floor. Whoever designed elevators obviously did not have impatient bioweapons in mind. He all but burst from the small metal box as soon as the door opened, bowling over an unfortunate crewman who Alex didn't care to remember the name of, and debated with himself on what to do about the damn voices in his head.

He had never done this before. He was hereby walking into the Unknown, territory with which he had been intimately acquainted in a previous life, but avoided now at all costs.

He watched the door slide open and stared at his target, clenching his fingers in an effort to relieve the need to _hit_ something.

"Dr. Chakwas," he growled out, as if he would rather be gargling broken glass, and the elderly woman turned her chair around to regard him with surprise. He almost choked on his next words, growling them so low that they were barely intelligible at all. "I need some help."


	21. Chapter 21

**_Note: _**_This is the second chapter I updated in a row. Make sure you didn't skip 20 or this won't make much sense._

* * *

To her credit, Dr. Chakwas did not ask too many questions. She did, though, ask him what he expected her to be able to do.

"I don't know," Alex admitted, irritated. "But you're a doctor. Do something medicine-y and make him shut up."

She smiled, amused. "Alex, medicine doesn't work that way. And I highly doubt that any vaccines or pills of mine would be of much use to a living virus, don't you agree?"

Of course he agreed. But couldn't she just wave her omni tool and fix it? That's what she seemed to do with everyone else who had a problem. Alex had consumed enough doctors to know that traditional medicine wouldn't do shit for a voice in his head, but he really didn't have many other options.

It was this or talk to Shepard, and in his current condition he was more likely to rip her in half.

It wasn't so much that the voices gave him headaches; he was used to those. The constant throbbing was only a minor irritant compared to some of the injuries he'd taken. Pain was something he'd long since learned to ignore as unimportant.

**"**_**Pain is an illusion."**_

_For the love of God shut up you oversized fortune cookie._

"Does Shepard ever get bothered by stuff like this? I mean, she's got a bunch of visions in her head, right?"

"You know I'm not at liberty to discuss other patients, Alex."

Which was obviously doctor-speak for _Yes, but I'm not going to tell you so suck it up and ask her yourself._

Alex sighed and stood, feeling ridiculous. "Fine. I'll go talk to Shepard. Happy?"

Chakwas smiled. "Very. Good luck, Alex."

Alex just growled at her and headed for the elevator.

* * *

Shepard sunk onto the couch in relief. She felt like she hadn't sat down in _years_…

Her eyes began to drift shut when EDI's voice snapped her awake. "Shepard, Alex is requesting permission to enter."

_Shit._ Alex. She did not want to deal with him right now. The man was a walking ball of stress, and Shepard finally had a moment to _herself_ for once.

_But what if he's in trouble? What if he needs help?_ Shepard swore and waved her hand at the wall, her imperious way of granting him entrance.

She didn't even have to look up or open her eyes to know he'd walked in. You could never hear him when he moved, Alex was like a damn ghost, but he had a _presence_ that made her hair stand on end and ever nerve tense in anticipation of a fight.

"Shepard," he growled. Oh good. He was in one of _those_ moods. "I've got a Reaper in my head. Get it out."

_That_ got her up. Her eyes snapped open and she jerked her head towards his voice, finding Alex at the top of her little steps, glaring at her as if it was _her_ fault there was a…

Wait.

He had a _what?_

"You have a what?" Shepard repeated dumbly, not entirely sure she'd heard that correctly.

Alex just snarled and bristled silently. "Harbinger. He won't _shut the hell up_ and I'm about ready to carve him out of my skull."

Shepard motioned for him to come in, worried for _so_ many more reasons than she could count. Did Alex get Indoctrinated? Were the Reapers controlling him? What was happening? Could she stop it?

He stalked forward and leaned against the wall, ignoring the offered couch, and folded his arms. He looked very much like a caged wolf, ready to lash out at the bars and bite the hand that feeds him.

"When did this happen?" Shepard asked, trying to stay calm. Alex going on a Reaper Rampage would more than likely result in their collective murders.

"Since I consumed that Collector I could feel him knocking at the door. Guess when I modified my armor and poked around in those memories he found a way in. Now he keeps bugging me with all this fortune cookie crap and I can't get him to be quiet."

"Is he… influencing you, in any way?"

Alex just leveled a look at her that all but told her _what am I, an idiot?_ "Well he's pissed me off. Does that count?"

It may as well. That was just as dangerous as anything else that could be happening to him at the moment.

"Look. You got the visions, right? You ever hear voices?"

Shepard heard a lot of voices, but those were the voices of ghosts better laid to rest, not Reapers. "Not like this, Alex. This is… bad. Very bad."

Alex shook his head sharply to one side, glaring murderously at the chair as if it had personally offended him, and then wiped his expression again and looked at her. Shepard shivered. Was he… _talking_ to Harbinger? Was that what that had been?

She did not want her viral crewmember to lose what little sanity he still had.

"Well, when I first got my visions, I had Liara with me. She was able to help make sense of them, and gave me control over when they hit."

"Liara?"

"She's an asari, a Prothean expert. She melded our minds or whatever and helped me sort through it all." Shepard paused. "You know, Samara could probably help you. And if not, she might have some advice on how to calm your mind."

Alex stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. "Samara. The Justicar who wants to see me _dead_. You want me to open my mind to _Samara._ And I thought I was the crazy one…"

Shepard frowned and stood, scowling. "Look, you asked for my advice? Well there it is. Unless you've got an asari in your pocket, Samara is your best bet. If you ask her nicely, maybe she'll pretend you aren't the Beast and help out of some obligation to the Code."

"Shepard, her obligation to the Code is to _kill me_."

Alex tensed, glare returning to his face, and Shepard flinched. She would not want that expression leveled at her. Then he seemed to slump in defeat. "Fine. _Fine._ I'll… go ask Samara. _Nicely_. If she tries to kill me again I'm throwing her through the window, spaceship or not."

_This cannot possibly end well._

* * *

_This can't possibly turn out well,_ Alex grumbled to himself as he stalked towards the observation deck where Samara could usually be found meditating. He felt the biomass shifting beneath his skin, eager to form into claws or blades and tear apart the single possible threat on the ship, and he pushed down the temptation with the ease of two centuries' practice.

Swallowing his pride had to be the lesser of two evils here.

He had expected her to be in her usual pose, facing the big window and meditating with her back to the wall. Instead, she was already in a defensive posture before he'd even opened the door, glaring at him with biotics flared around both hands.

Well this conversation was off to an _excellent_ start.

He held up his hands as a gesture of peace—although really that position did not put him at a disadvantage in the slightest—and raised his head enough to get most of his face out of the shadows of his hood. He couldn't make himself look _innocent_, but he was capable of an expression that wasn't outright murderous.

"Look, I need your help."

Samara narrowed her eyes and straightened, but the glow did not leave and Alex did not step into the room. At least the distrust was mutual. "Why would I aid the Beast? My oath to Shepard is all that stands between you and the Void from which you came."

Alex bit off the instinctive retort to that and managed to growl out, "I'm not here as the _Beast._ I'm here as a fellow _crewmember_, and I've got a _Reaper_ in my head."

Samara paused, glow flicking out as she tilted her head in curiosity. "I am listening, Beast."

Alex lowered his hands and stuck them in his pockets, hunching his shoulders. "I went to Shepard, and she suggested I come to you. There's a voice in my head, and she said that an asari could help me block it out."

She stiffened again. "You wish me to _meld_ with you?" It had been a long time since Alex had had that much disgust and loathing aimed in his direction. It was refreshing. "Whatever would make Shepard believe I would do such a thing?"

"Out of the goodness of your heart, maybe? No? Worth a shot." Alex shrugged and glared at the floor. "Look, I'm not asking for you to suddenly decide I'm a great guy. A favor for a favor, right? Surely you've got something you need killed or murdered in a creative way?"

Samara hesitated long enough for Alex to know that she _did_ need something from him, but he didn't let his body language give away that he knew. He'd let the Justicar have all the time she needed to figure out whether or not to trust him.

Finally, she spoke, voice low and mistrusting. "I have been tracking a criminal, an Ardat-Yakshi. I had intended to ask Shepard for help in this matter, but… perhaps something of your _unique_ mindset would be better suited for the task."

Alex raised an interested brow. He knew all about Ardat-Yakshis, of course. He'd never had the opportunity to consume one, though. The genetic defect that made them kill their mates during joining was highly intriguing… he wondered if Samara would let him consume the one she was hunting.

Probably not.

"Oh?"

"Yes." Samara frowned, an odd expression on an otherwise tranquil face. "If… you will aid me in this matter, then I will see what I can do to remove the influence from your mind." Then she narrowed her eyes. "This will not affect my obligation to destroy you, Beast. I must honor the Code in all things."

Alex nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, sure, whatever. So, who or what do you need me to kill?"

"I do not need you to kill, Beast. I need you to hunt."

Alex let a slow, feral grin spread across his face. Now _this_ sounded promising.

* * *

**A/N: **_This entire chapter rotates around that fortune cookie line. I never really spoke that much with Samara in game, so instead of the tranquil matriarchal Justicar, I've got a mildly tranquil asari with a special hatred for Alex. So, yes, yes I am taking Samara ooc a little._


	22. Chapter 22

Alex leaned against the Afterlife wall, glancing up to where Aria was currently making some poor human guy wet himself just by staring at him disapprovingly. Samara was lurking nearby, he was sure, perfectly content to let _him_ do all the work. He'd toyed with the idea of just consuming Aria and figuring out what she knows that way, but Samara had forbade him from doing so.

"_Do not draw attention to yourself, Beast. If Morinth knows you track her, she will disappear like smoke."_

Alex scoffed and shook his head, sending a glare at the turian bodyguard that had been eyeing him, making him jerk back to attention and look studiously at something else. Good to see all these weeks aboard the Normandy hadn't made him soft.

He peeled himself off the suspiciously sticky wall and skipped up the steps, hands in his pockets. The batarian that stepped forward threateningly found his face planted into the floor before anyone knew Alex had moved. You could have heard a pin drop for the silence that followed.

"I don't like having guns pointed at me," Alex explained casually, pausing a respectable distance from the intrigued stare of Aria T'loak.

"Interesting," Aria mused, and Alex fought the urge to show her just how _interesting_ he could be. "Welcome to Omega. I hope someone has informed you of its single rule."

"I'm not here for a history lesson. I'm looking for the Ardat-Yakshi."

Aria swore, looking suddenly less in control than she had previously. "I knew it. Nothing leaves a body quite so… _empty_ as an Ardat-Yakshi."

Alex smirked beneath his hood. _He_ left bodies so empty there was literally nothing left. "You know where she is?"

Aria waved a hand carelessly. "Her latest victim lived in the apartments near the slums. I'd start there."

Alex bowed dramatically, waving his hands with a flourish, every movement as mocking as he could make it. "My humble thanks, Your Majesty."

Aria stiffened but pasted on a smile as Alex stood, grinning. It was always such fun to knock people off their high horses and crush them under his heel.

He turned and headed back down the steps, aware of all the guns trained on him but honestly not caring if he started a firefight at this point.

_The slums, huh? _Alex kept his eyes covered by his hood as he walked. Aria hadn't specified an apartment number. _Guess I'll just have to check them all._

* * *

It was nearly unbearable watching the Beast stroll freely through the open streets of Omega. He belonged here, though, amongst all the scum and vagrants of the Underground, she supposed. Samara clenched a fist and recited the mantras of the Order, soothing her urge to betray her oath to Shepard and send the monster back to the Void.

His handling of T'loak had been much less gruesome than she had anticipated. It seemed the Beast _was_ capable of civility after all. It was surprising, given the stories whispered at the Monastery and the strict rigidity of the Code's mandate that demanded his indiscriminate execution.

Shadowing him was distasteful, but necessary. In this manner, she would be more readily able to intervene should he decide to begin slaughtering civilians out of hand, as he was wont to do. Every so often he would pause and she would press further into the shadows, knowing that it was impossible for him to have sensed her with the way she had shielded her mind, but unnerving nonetheless.

Until the Beast finally turned and looked directly at her, as if her biotic shields and centuries of practice at walking unseen were completely meaningless.

"You can stop hiding, Justicar. We're almost there, anyway; might as well make yourself useful."

Samara did not let the tense in her posture bleed into her smooth walk as she approached the Beast, keeping her eyes locked on his and inwardly shuddering with revulsion at the barely restrained hunger she could see there. It was not like the hunger she normally saw in a male's eyes as she walked by. The Beast was not human, no matter what shape it wore, and the ravenous appetite it was so famous for was more literal than most.

As the Beast continued walking, head down, she pondered how it had managed to sense her so easily. Another of its foul curses from the Void, no doubt. She flicked sapphire eyes to the monster walking calmly at her side, nothing in his posture betraying any sort of anxiety or concern. He walked beside a member of the Justicar Order, and he feared _nothing_. Samara wondered if her obligation to the Code would be enough to stop him when the time came for him to be destroyed. She did not doubt the Beast was useful. She had seen for herself the carnage it could wreak when let off its leash, although Shepard was far too lenient with it when she released it out unto the world.

It was a rabid dog that needed to be put down for the safety of the galaxy. Could Shepard not see it?

No. The Commander was merely distracted by the enormity of her quest, and the Beast was a master at hiding in the background. He was, admittedly, the lesser of two evils. But for how long? She watched silently as the Beast stopped at every locked door, staring at it as if seeing _through_ the metal to the dwelling within, before moving on. He had admitted to her that the Reaper was speaking to his mind, chaotic as it must be.

If the Reapers managed to turn him to their cause, Samara had no doubt that he would cause unimaginable chaos and devastation before anyone could bring him to justice. Shepard trusted the Beast far too much. It would have to be up to her to show the Commander the error of her ways, that the Beast could not be trusted to look out for anyone but itself.

Finally the Beast stopped and cocked its head, and then turned to look at Samara with orange-tinted eyes. Samara took a small breath in surprise. She had never seen the Beast's eyes change color before. Was it an effect of the Reaper in his consciousness, or another skill of his that she had not been privy to?

The color drained from his eyes as he blinked and glanced back at the door. "This is it."

How he knew that with such certainty she was unsure, but before she had a chance to question him, the Beast had already put his hand to the door and it whirred open as if welcoming him. An older human woman stood alone in the room, eyes red with grief, and Samara let her heart go out to the woman.

This must be the mother of the girl Morinth had slain. She eyed the Beast distastefully; this was not an interaction that the creature would be able to handle with any modicum of delicacy.

The woman turned and regarded the two of them with fear and curiosity, but her eyes lingered on the Beast. It was not surprising. The Beast's chosen form was that of a human male, after all, and therefore more approachable than an asari, especially considering the species that had slain her daughter. Samara was amazed, however, that the older woman could not tell that the Beast was simply a predator in her midst. Most others had been able to do so immediately.

"Are you here about my Nef?" the older woman asked, clasping her hands together.

The Beast shifted to his other foot and it was so _human_ a gesture that Samara almost believed she hadn't seen it at all. "Yes. We know she was murdered, and we're looking for her killer."

"Oh thank goodness," the woman sighed in relief, shoulders slumping. "It was so hard when no one would believe that… my poor Nef was killed."

"I believe you," the Beast said, voice absent of the usual note of anger it usually held. He must be a skilled hunter to disguise himself so. "I'd like to see Nef's room, if I could."

The woman hesitated, rubbing her hands together nervously. "I've kept it just like she left it… I didn't want to…"

And then the Beast did something that Samara could never have expected. He put a hand on the woman's shoulders, and only Samara's keen sight spotted the subtle tension in his posture at the contact.

"I will find the one who killed your daughter, and I will end her."

The woman sobbed, once, then waved at the room and it unlocked itself. The Beast nodded and turned to enter the small space, and Samara watched him curiously. She watched as the Beast went around the room collecting seemingly random items and studying them, listened as he played back Nef's video diaries, and followed as he left the apartment.

"She's in Afterlife, the VIP lounge," the Beast informed her as they walked. "She likes artists, and she's into drugs. Shouldn't be too hard to find her."

Samara paused mid-step. She had little doubt that the Beast could locate and terminate Morinth with ease, but that was not the justice the Code dictated for a rogue Ardat-Yakshi. It must be she that takes the girl's life, as demanded. "No. You must convince her to take you back to her apartment. I will follow, and confront her there."

The Beast flicked an electric blue eye in her direction with a raised brow. "You really don't trust me at all, do you?"

"No," Samara agreed, eyes ahead. "She is an Ardat-Yakshi, and she will face justice as the Code demands."

The Beast stared at her for another long moment before shrugging and heading on, and Samara followed quietly.

_Morinth… Mirala. I am sorry it has come to this._

She would see her daughter slain for the good of the galaxy. But she was not cruel enough to allow the Beast to do it for her.

* * *

It was obvious Samara was hiding something. Why else would she be _so_ against him just taking care of the problem before it became too damn complicated? Alex shrugged, slipping into a dark corner to put the damn suit back on that Kasumi had made him wear. Rearranging his biomass was as easy as breathing—so to speak—and he figured a leather jacket and hoodie wasn't _quite_ the image Morinth would go for.

He could see Samara twitch when he emerged in a different outfit, her eyes inevitably searching his newly exposed face, but he ignored her. Convincing Morinth to take him to her apartment would be infinitely more challenging than just dragging her into a corner and consuming her. He'd never hunted by _seduction_ before. He wasn't really even all that sure if he _could_.

But let it be known that Alex Mercer never shies from a challenge, and he slid into Afterlife as if he'd been there a million times before.

He hated clubs. All the crowds, the mass of pressing bodies, the skin touching his even if only for a moment, it made his biomass writhe beneath his skin, wanting to reach out and _consume _and _assimilate_, but he fought the urge and kept a neutrally cocky expression on his face. He had dozens of assorted memories pertaining to the Art of Seduction, although he'd never had to put them into play before. From what he knew about Morinth, she would be attracted to someone violent, someone dangerous but controlled, someone with a complex mind.

And wouldn't you know it that matched his personality _perfectly_.

Being himself would certainly catch her attention, if only to find out why there were body parts flying through the air and why everyone was screaming. But this would require finesse… not his strong suit, admittedly.

A turian was harassing one of the dancers, so Alex stepped up and convinced him that it would be wise to cease doing so. The turian was drunk enough to not hear the threat in his voice or notice the others stepping away, and the one swing he'd aimed at Alex's head was enough for what followed to resemble self-defense. If you squinted. Once that idiot had been taken care of, Alex approached the bar.

_A bioweapon walks into a bar… the bartender says:_

"You want something?"

_So the bioweapon says: _"You're going to give everyone here a free round."

_The bartender replies: _"And why would I do something like that?"

_And the bioweapon grins, leaning on the bar, flashing canines and inhuman blue eyes that made the man tense. _"Well, way I see it, you can either do what I asked you so nicely to do, or I can rip off your face and wear it like a mask while I do it _for_ you."

Suffice it to say, the joke ended with the bar getting a free round and a drunk krogan being knocked on his ass for insulting his suit.

Alex smirked as he stepped away, looking for something else fun to do to pass the time, when a gentle touch on his arm made him pause and bristle defensively. An asari with more than a passing resemblance to Samara smiled at him with just enough of a hidden agenda behind it to make him not immediately brush her off.

"I've been watching you," she admits, still smiling coyly, and Alex raises a brow. "I've got a table. Why don't you join me?"

If this wasn't Morinth, he'd eat his own foot.

So he lets a smirk crawl across his face and permits the prolonged contact. "Was that a request?"

She smirks back. "No."

Alex grinned and followed her to her table, leaning back in his seat as she caught his eye. She was a huntress stalking her prey.

Pity for her she picked the one creature in the bar that was a bigger threat than she was.

_Let the games begin._

* * *

**A/N:** _I am going to have too much fun writing Alex and Morinth, I can tell. So yes, I stuck a Samara POV in there just because I could. Derp.__  
_


	23. Chapter 23

It was difficult to know which of the two predators sitting at the table had the upper hand. Samara hid in the shadows, watching warily. It would be all too fitting for the Beast to fall for Morinth's charms and get himself killed, and while the idea did not bother her, she would inevitably lose Morinth's trail in the process.

The Beast turned slightly and his eyes found her unerringly, even from across the room, and she could still see the sharp inhuman glare in clear eyes. So Morinth had not been able to muddle his mind yet. Perhaps things could still go her way, after all.

The Beast was merely a weapon, and she had aimed it at her foe with an accuracy befitting a Justicar.

Only time would tell if her grip on the reins would hold.

* * *

Alex was actually enjoying himself rather well. He didn't have to curb what he said for fear of chasing her off, didn't have to draw on many memories other than his own to keep her interested, and he could see the interest in her eyes growing the longer he sat across from her. If only all of his hunting was this simple. Samara was watching them like a hawk from what she must have thought was a clever hiding place, but Alex didn't really care.

Being brought back to Morinth's apartment was now more of a certainty than a challenge, and Alex had to fight a grin at how desperate Morinth was getting. He'd evaded her more probing questions with typical Mercer elegance, and managed to turn some of her other topics back on her without making it too noticeable.

"You want to get out of here?" she asked, leaning across the table in a way that any normal man would have found irresistible. Alex just watched, amused.

"I thought you'd never ask," Alex grinned back, truthfully. He really had been starting to wonder if Morinth had forgotten about her plans to abduct him somewhere between talking about Hallex and space travel.

Morinth smiled back and stood, sashaying away with Alex at her heels.

* * *

Samara slid from the shadows as the two hunters passed her by, the Beast having the audacity to wink at her before they vanished around a corner. She wasn't sure which of them had unnerved her more. Morinth had the look of satisfaction, of knowing a plan is coming together and that success was certain. But the Beast…

…the Beast had looked _amused._ Was he not taking this seriously? Samara sighed and hurried after them. No matter. She would not let him stand between her and Morinth. Not again.

* * *

Her apartment was impressive, he'd give her that. She had a samurai sword hanging on one wall, and Alex smiled appreciatively at the weapon. He flicked his gaze back to Morinth, lounging on the couch in what he was sure was supposed to be a seductive pose, and idly calculated the time it would take to grasp the sword and behead her with it.

_2.3 seconds, at most,_ he mused, before sitting at the opposite end and resting his arm on the back. He wondered what, exactly, Samara expected him to do now. All the options running through his head generally ended with a dead Morinth and a happy Alex, but apparently Samara was a glory hog and wanted the kill to herself.

**"**_**This delay is pointless."**_

_Oh good. I thought I'd lost you for a while there. _Alex barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Good 'ol Harbinger. _Haven't you ever heard of 'personal space'? Because this is one of those times where that would come in handy._

**"**_**Irrelevant."**_

Alex ignored him, and smirked as Morinth got up and sat beside him, all but draping herself over his frame. He wondered if Samara was taking her sweet ass time getting here, or if she was hiding in the shadows again watching them like a pervert.

She leaned closer, eyes darkening to a pitch black, and Alex felt something like a breeze brush past the screaming multitudes of his consciousness. She was going to have to try a _lot_ harder than that. "Look into my eyes," she whispered, "and tell me you want me. Tell me you'd kill for me. Anything I want."

Alex grinned. He wanted her all right, just in a _slightly_ different way than she was implying. "You'll have to try harder than that, sweetheart."

She hesitated, the black fading from her gaze in genuine surprise. "But how—who _are_ you?"

"A very, _very_ troubled man." Alex leaned back and made himself comfortable. Nothing left to do now but wait for Her Royal Justiceness to show herself. "Sorry, dear, but my mind is not a place you want to get lost in."

Morinth paused before smirking again. "You _are_ interesting, aren't you?" She ran her fingers over his suit and he allowed the contact only because if he didn't, she would be dead. "Why don't we skip the pleasantries and get to why you're _really_ here?"

So she was perceptive. Alex raised a brow. Well, he never was big on lying. "An acquaintance promised to help me out with a little… _problem_ of mine if I helped track you down."

Morinth stilled, but to her credit did not show any outward signs of distress. "Oh? And what problem might that be?" She smirked again and slid to straddle his lap, leaning closer and lowering her voice to a whisper. "I might be able to help you."

Alex paused. She really might. After all, did it matter _which_ asari helped him with his little parasite problem? And he seriously doubted being an Ardat-Yakshi would do much on a creature without a nervous system to overload in the first place.

"Mmm…" he hummed, fingers twitching with the need to push her off before he lost control and ended up consuming her on the couch. Something told him that would be counterproductive to his goals. "Not sure you'd _want_ to mess with what's in my head, Morinth."

"Why don't you let me decide that for myself?" she smirked. "I'm not afraid."

_You should be._

Her eyes swirled to black and Alex tensed as he felt something that did _not_ belong intrude on his consciousness. Everything faded away and was silent for a single heartbeat.

And then he heard the scream.

* * *

Samara stepped inside warily. It had been too quiet for some time now; adequate time for the Beast to either kill or be killed, although the spectacle that greeted her was not one she had been expecting.

And then she heard it. Morinth was _screaming_. Some forgotten part of her, that part that had been mother to three children, clenched in sympathetic pain, before she shook it free and stared. Morinth had obviously attempted to meld with the Beast, if their positions were any indication, although while her daughter screamed in agony, the Beast looked completely unaffected.

And then his eyes opened and Samara felt her heart stop. They were not the inhuman blue or the orange tint he had adopted in the apartments. They were a luminescent yellow, a Collector's eyes.

**"**_**This is true power."**_

The voice had come from everywhere, from nowhere, and Morinth went reeling back as she clutched her head in an ironic role reversal that Samara admitted to herself was proper justice.

The Beast stepped from the couch, eyes still glowing as Morinth fell to her knees, and reached out to touch her forehead with a hand that rippled like water and came apart into a multitude of tendrils that snapped Samara back to the present and she hurried into the room.

Once his 'fingers' touched Morinth's skin, she shrieked and black eyes rolled back in her head as Alex smirked and grasped either side of her head with his hands, leaning his head back and shuddering as if in pain.

**"**_**This hurts you." **_

Samara shielded her eyes from the white flash that had followed, still trying to reach them before the Beast managed to kill her daughter, and heard something that made her pause mid-step.

**"**_**Assuming control of this form."**_

Morinth slumped to the ground, twitching, while the Beast staggered back and shook his head sharply to one side, blue eyes blinking. The Beast looked up and saw Samara standing there, and blinked again.

"Well don't just stand there like an idiot. Kill her already before Harbinger figures out how to make her explode or something."

* * *

Alex hadn't been entirely sure that would work out as flawlessly as it had. Dragging Morinth's consciousness into the multitudes of his own had been child's play. Pawning Harbinger off onto her before shutting her out had not been. He didn't feel _regret_, exactly, but he did flinch in sympathy as Morinth began to seize on the ground at his feet, yellow leaking from otherwise black eyes.

"Yeah, Harbinger's a bitch," he agreed, smiling grimly down at her. "You were right, though. You _did_ help me out with my little problem."

Morinth suddenly stopped and glowing yellow eyes locked on him, making Alex frown. _**"I will find you again."**_

"Yeah, whatever."

Samara's heel came from nowhere and cracked Morinth's neck, making her go limp. Alex shrugged and looked at a surprisingly distraught Samara. "It is finished," she whispered, and Alex's frown deepened.

"You know," he began, looking from Morinth's sightless eyes back to Samara. "You two looked an awful lot alike. Who was she?"

"She was my daughter," Samara replied quietly, and Alex's eyes widened. Samara turned to him with a fierce glare. "I do not expect you to understand, _Beast._ Let us leave this place. I need to find solace in the Code."

Alex watched as she quickly left the room before looking back at Morinth. That had been Samara's daughter? Alex narrowed his eyes. How could Samara bear to kill her own daughter? Family was supposed to _matter_. Blood is thicker than water, and all that.

He glanced at the door where Samara had vanished. A mother who could break her daughter's neck and not shed a tear.

And she called _him_ a monster.

* * *

**A/N: **_Two chapters two days in a row. I must love you guys. Jk, I DO love you guys. Especially you. Yes, you. With the face. Yeah. _

_I considered having Alex kill Samara and bring Morinth back to the Normandy in her place, but then instead of writing that, somehow I ended up pawning off Harbinger into Morinth's mind during the meld and everything went south from there. Oh, and in case you didn't know, everything Harbinger says and has ever said are quotes he'll yell in battle with Shepard. Except the one where he calls him 'malleable.' I adapted that one.  
_


	24. Chapter 24

Alex paced the cargo bay, fingers flexing uselessly at his sides. Why was this _bothering_ him so much? He'd seen people die before. Hell he'd even seen people _kill each other_ before. None of _those_ had ever made him so restless, made him want to bury his claws in the nearest living flesh and rip them apart. What was _wrong_ with him?

He supposed he wasn't entirely to blame. He'd consumed enough parents and mothers for the very _idea_ of killing one's child to set him on edge, not to mention the complete _shit-storm_ Greene had become once he'd gotten back to the Normandy. MOTHER would never allow anyone to hurt her 'children,' and so obviously the idea that a _real_ mother would kill her child did not sit well with her.

What did the humans call it? Filicide? A pretty word for a hideous act.

Alex snarled and barely resisted the urge to punch the wall. There were already enough fist-shaped dents in the metal; he really didn't need another lecture from Joker about hurting 'his baby.'

He'd be kidding himself if he considered Morinth a child. She had to have been at least four hundred years old. But that _wasn't the point._ Samara had made a point several times that _she_ had to be the one who killed Morinth. Alex would have been _more_ than happy to have done it for her. In fact, if he hadn't ended up shoving Harbinger into the Ardat-Yakshi's head he had been prepared to consume her no matter what Samara wanted.

_Great, Alex. Just great. Two hundred years and _this_ is the cause you decide to champion? A Justicar and her family issues?_

He stopped pacing and sighed, lowering his head. He was going to have to talk to Samara. There was no way Greene was going to let this slide otherwise, and he hadn't just traded the voice of a Reaper for the nagging of MOTHER.

And by 'talk to' he meant 'interrogate,' of course.

Alex growled low and headed for the elevator, warning away anyone who approached with his glare and hostile posture. He had stepped inside at the same time a three-fingered hand appeared to hold the doors open, with a flustered quarian attached to it.

_Oh Tali. This is _not_ a good time to be trapped in an elevator with me._

Tali hesitated when she saw Alex standing there all but radiating hatred, but she slipped in nonetheless. Alex did not look at her. Already flashes from the _last_ time he'd been in an elevator with a woman were slipping to the forefront, and he couldn't help the grin that pulled at his lips at the memory.

_Karen. There's a name I thought I'd left back on Earth._

Greene gave him the equivalent of a mental slap and he jerked back to the present, snarling at the doors. Out of all the myriads of souls he'd consumed, only Elizabeth Greene had enough of the virus in her DNA to keep her with him even when he didn't want her. She was probably the reason he was so aggressive nowadays, now that he thought about it.

"Alex?" came Tali's nervous voice, but Alex just growled at her and then bolted out the doors once they opened on the proper floor.

He didn't have time to play nice with the quarian. He raised his hand to pound on Samara's door, but it slid open noiselessly at his approach. It was times like this he wished there were some normal doors on the Normandy so he could make a dramatic entrance for once.

A gentle _swoosh_ was simply not the same as breaking a door off its damn hinges.

Samara had her back to him, for once, and he took a moment to appreciate the utter stupidity of putting her back to something like the Blacklight virus before he stepped inside and let the door snick shut behind him.

"The hell?" Alex finally demanded, irritated that she hadn't turned around and faced him yet, as if he wasn't worth her notice. "What the _hell_, Justicar?"

Samara slid to her feet and turned to face him, expression as neutral as it usually was when Alex wasn't in the room. "Beast."

Alex snarled, claws sliding from his arms without his conscious approval. Samara did not summon any biotics to her defense at the display, and Alex took full advantage of that. He'd crossed the space between them in two steps and slammed her into the window facing her precious 'Void,' cracking the thick glass dangerously.

Joker was going to hate him for that.

"_Your own daughter, Justicar,_" Alex hissed, idly noting that his voice was a cross between his own and Greene's. Well what the hell. Might as well invite MOTHER to the party. "Why?"

If Samara noticed the voice change, she didn't show it. She did raise a hand and pulled at where his forearm had her pinned to the window, if half-heartedly. "She was an Ardat-Yakshi outside the Monastery. The Code—"

"I don't give a _shit_ about your damn _Code, _Justicar. She was your _daughter_. Doesn't that _mean_ anything to you?"

Now her eyes hardened. "Of course it does. I just killed my own daughter. Can you even imagine such pain, Beast? You who have never loved anything but yourself?"

Alex went very still, every muscle going rigid. Greene _screamed_ in his head, and it sparked something inside him that hadn't burned since before Dana had died. Slowly, he let the arm holding her hostage crawl with tendrils and reform into his blade, pressing it carefully into her skin hard enough to draw blood, but not hard enough to wound her.

"Your Code calls me a Beast," Alex began in a voice cold enough to frost the air. "The humans call me a killer, a monster, a terrorist. I'm all these things." He leaned in closer, blue eyes aflame with utter loathing. "But which of us is callous enough to kill our flesh and blood and not shed a tear?" Alex growled low, pressing the blade a millimeter deeper into her skin and making her wince. "I would burn the galaxy to the _ground_ to protect my family. And you, a _Justicar_, she who is meant to _uphold_ the morals the rest of the universe has forgotten, call _me_ a Beast?" He shook his head. "You are less than nothing to me, _Justicar_. Even a wolf knows better than to kill its young."

Samara sucked in a breath through her teeth, but her stare did not waver even in the face of his rage, and Alex was reminded of other Justicars, less deserving of death than she, that had looked him in the eye in much the same manner. "She was a threat to the galaxy, Beast. I… I ended her for the good of the galaxy."

"You keep telling yourself that, Justicar. Let me know when you start to believe it." Alex stepped back, letting her fall to her hands and knees, holding desperately at the long cut his blade had made where he'd held her up. "You call me a monster? Fine. I'll accept that. But every monster has a line they will not cross. I know where my line is, Justicar. Do you?"

Alex turned and dismissed his claws and blade as he left without looking back.

* * *

**A/N: **_The plot bunny for having Alex and Samara get into an argument over the loyalty mission was courtesy of SevereArtisan, whose suggestion sparked the entire Samara story arc for the past few chapters. Go give him hugs!_


	25. Chapter 25

**Note: **_Long-ass author's note at the bottom where I pretend like I know anything about anything._

* * *

Shepard was not pleased. Granted, she generally wasn't nowadays, but infighting amongst her crew? She'd had enough of that shit with Jack and Miranda; she _definitely_ didn't need it between her one-man swiss-army monster and her asari Justicar.

And the best part was she would never have known about the argument at all if Tali hadn't mentioned seeing Alex storm off towards the observation deck. Approaching Alex about this kind of thing would be stupid, and Commander Jane Shepard was not stupid, so she went to Samara instead.

It was like trying to get water out of a rock. Samara was meditating—Shepard wasn't dense enough to overlook the bandage wrapped around her chest—and seemed almost _depressed_. Was it possible for a Justicar to be depressed? Samara hadn't shown any sort of emotion other than detached disappointment since joining, but here she was, all but sulking in her chamber.

This had Alex written _all_ over it.

Shepard sighed and paused outside Alex's room. She hated having to confront him with anything, if only because he tended to creep her the hell out even if all he did was stand there. Finally, she sucked in a breath and stepped forward, the door whirring open to reveal a black room. She blinked, disoriented. He'd turned all the lights off?

Warily, she stepped into the room, looking around the darkened interior as if Alex planned to leap out and drag her into the depths. She wouldn't put it past the man.

"Alex?" she called, hand drifting to the pistol she kept at her hip even on the ship. Call her paranoid, but she'd been jumped too often to walk around completely unarmed.

She blinked as her eyes started to adjust to the lack of light in the cargo hold and she spotted an Alex-shaped lump on one of the tables off to the side.

_This is like a bad horror vid…_

"Alex, we need to talk."

"This is really not a good time, Shepard."

Shepard let out the breath she'd been holding. The lump hadn't sounded particularly angry, but she kept her fingers light on the grip of her pistol nonetheless. "Then make it a good time. What's up between you and Samara? Is this going to get in the way of the mission?"

The lump swung off the table and stood, and Shepard cursed the fact that the walking virus had a few inches on her. "No, Shepard. We had a disagreement over the ethics of the Justicar Code. It will not get in the way of your mission."

Shepard let some of the tension bleed from her shoulders. She supposed there were worse things they could have argued about. "Did you crack the window?"

A pause. "Yes."

Shepard sighed. There wasn't really much point explaining how it was supposed to be impossible to break those windows, how only direct fire from another ship should have done that much damage. He'd done stranger things that break a window. "Well, get your shit together; we're headed to Illium to pick up the assassin. Might as well get a new window while we're at it…"

Shepard turned to go, pausing at the door. "And turn some damn lights on. It's like a crypt in here."

* * *

He really should have known better than to think finding the assassin would be easy. Alex sighed, pulling his armored form over his skin as they approached the thin sheet of glass separating them and the Dantius towers. He paused and looked up.

"You know, Shepard, I could just run up the side of this and get to the roof that way."

Shepard sighed. "Alex, we just saw a bunch of salarians gunned down by mechs. What if there are survivors?"

"What if there aren't?"

"Just get in there, Alex."

Alex shook his head but rammed his shoulder into the glass and stumbled through, calling his blade to one arm as he crept forward. He rounded a corner and all but tripped over a Blue Suns merc that had been standing there. Alex swore and impaled the shrieking man on his blade to make him shut up, and consumed him for his trouble.

Alex blinked as the fragmented images flicked behind his gaze. "Nassana is on the top floor of Tower One with a veritable army of security guarding her. She knows the assassin is after her."

Shepard blinked at him. "How did you know that?"

Alex just stared at her and motioned to the bloody ring at his feet which was all that remained of the unfortunate merc.

"Right." Shepard gave an imperceptible shudder and Alex just shook his head.

It didn't take long for the 'army of security' to figure out they were on the same floor. Alex sighed as he leapt at the nearest merc and stabbed him with his blade, smirking as he injected the screaming man with what he'd affectionately dubbed a _bio-bomb_, and hurled him into his nearest buddy. The subsequent tentacle explosion was immensely gratifying, even if Shepard was shrieking like a little girl the entire time.

It was a good thing Miranda wasn't here. She might have been traumatized.

"Don't _do_ that!" Shepard yelled, clutching her sniper rifle to her chest. "What if one of us got sucked into that?"

Alex glanced at her. "You really think I'd be careless enough to let you get killed, Shepard?"

Shepard just stared at him, and he idly remembered a ring of spikes and a frozen Commander in a Cerberus base. Hmm. So she was still paranoid about that. Alex sighed.

"Fine, fine. I'll refrain from doing anything appropriately badass in your presence."

"_Thank_ you," Shepard grumbled as she stalked forward, Garrus at her heels.

_Spoilsport._

* * *

Shepard was running low on ammo clips, and that was never a good sign. Through some incredible example of intuition, the mercs had begun using cryo rounds and had pinned Alex across the room behind some low cover, leaving it up to Shepard and Garrus to clear a path for their walking weapon of mass destruction.

What she wouldn't give for some of Jacob's 'good stuff' right about now. She missed having an adept in her squad, but ever since she'd learned that Alex was an incredible meat shield she'd begun dragging him along instead.

That, and because leaving him alone on the Normandy with nothing to occupy himself with was just _asking_ for trouble.

Shepard popped out of cover and blew one of the heads off a nearby merc, immediately drawing unwanted attention to herself in the process. A shotgun round glanced off her shield and she cursed, ducking back down. She reloaded her sniper rifle and again wished she had a gun that could hold more than one shot at a time.

"Alex!" she yelled over the sound of gunfire. How did the mercs manage to never run out of ammo?

"A bit _busy_ here, Shepard!" came the annoyed response, and Shepard glanced in his direction. He had a FENRIS mech trying to pin him down and he was attempting to grapple with it without leaving his cover. Shepard lined up a shot and sent the mech flying, where it promptly exploded. The yellow lights representing his eyes blinked and looked over at her accusingly, as if she'd offended him somehow. "Kill stealer."

Shepard just rolled her eyes. "Are you a biotic?" she called, wishing not for the first time that the man would wear a damn helmet so she could use the com system.

She saw Alex hesitate, then peer around the corner of his cover at the group of mercs frosting over his steel block with their cryo rounds. He looked back at her and shrugged, and Shepard blinked in confusion.

What kind of answer was a _shrug?_

* * *

_Alexander J. Mercer, you are an idiot._

He turned his gaze inward and concentrated. Biotics. He'd _easily_ consumed a hundred of them, perhaps more, not to mention the five or so Justicars that comprised the majority of his asari knowledge… how hard could it be?

The firefight ceased to matter as he sifted through the collective memories of thousands of dead men, trying to find someone that actually knew the _logic_ behind how biotics were supposed to work. He could use them in _theory_… if he was a biotic.

Which he wasn't.

From what his memories were telling him, all asari had the ability to use biotics thanks to the presence of eezo in their body tissue. Well that's great, except Alex doesn't _have_ body tissue. Human biotics were exposed to eezo in the womb (not helpful), and generally had implants to help control them (also not helpful). Collectors—

Alex hesitated. All Collectors had latent biotic potential, but it was only harnessed when Harbinger decides to say hello. Well Alex didn't have a Reaper anymore to tap into that, but did he _really_ need one? He quickly sifted through the Collector's genetic sequence and isolated the potential for biotics.

And wouldn't you know it but it wasn't dependent on eezo. He could work with that.

_What does Harbinger do to activate this?_ Alex growled. He didn't want to poke around in the last memories of the Collector again in case it lit him up like a damn Reaper beacon, but he really had no choice.

Immediately his vision shifted and he found himself staring down at _himself_ as claws impaled him through the throat and a tentacle punched through his midsection. He felt nothing. No pain, no fear, only…

_Curiosity?_

And then he felt it, the one thing that changed when Harbinger pulled back an instant before the Collector was torn in half.

Alex shook his head and pushed the memories to the back of his mind, pulling as much of the relevant Collector's genetics as possible to the forefront of his own, glad he was already wearing his 'Collector armor.' He blinked, disoriented, as his vision cracked and fragmented, like an insect's, but once he'd acclimated to the new perspective, he could feel the biotic potential shifting in his mind like a coiled snake.

He smirked beneath his mask.

_Hell yes._

* * *

Shepard ducked beneath another sniper round aimed in her direction before kicking out with her heel and shattering the face-screen of the FENRIS mech that had tried flanking her. Seriously, how did her enemies never run out of ammo? She was down to two shots, and she highly doubted her ability to kill ten mercs with one clip each.

She chanced another glance at Alex in time to see him twitch, as if he'd fallen asleep, and then he dismissed his claws and stood. Shepard widened her eyes. What was he _doing?_ All fire swiveled in his direction, and Shepard lined up a shot, hoping to make it count.

The mercs fired.

Alex raised his hand.

Shepard lowered her rifle as the shots slowed to a crawl in mid-air before halting completely. She turned her head incredulously to Alex, eyes drawn to the odd purple light playing around his fingers, and she jerked in realization.

_Alex is using biotics._

Purple biotics, which was new, but biotics nonetheless.

Shepard kick-started herself back into gear and pulled the trigger, sending one of the mercs crumpling headless to the ground. The mercs swiveled and opened fire on her, but those shots too slowed down and froze mid-flight, and Garrus jumped out of cover and proceeded to lay into the mercs with his assault rifle, mowing them down like reeds.

Shepard stepped out of cover once the last had fallen and looked at Alex, who was shaking in place as he lowered his hand and the projectiles fell harmlessly to the ground. Alex stumbled, catching himself on a nearby wall, as his creepy black armor bled from his form until the usual hooded façade slipped back into place.

She hurried to his side, alarmed and more than a little confused, as Alex straightened again and flexed his fingers as if he had never seen them before.

"Alex?"

He looked at her, the yellow tint to his eyes fading away into their usual icy blue, and then looked down at the scattered ammunition he'd stopped in mid-air. Shepard hadn't seen biotics used that expansively before; something of that magnitude would most likely have made Kaidan pass out, but Alex looked fine, if a little paler than usual.

"To answer your question: yes. Yes I am a biotic."

Shepard blinked. "Well… good to know." She shouldered her sniper rifle and exchanged it for her heavy pistol. She was out of clips for it anyway. "Come on, that assassin isn't going to find himself."

* * *

**A/N: **_Due to popular demand (that's fancy talk for "a bunch of reviewers beat me with large sticks demanding why Alex wasn't using biotics") I have made Alex a biotic. Sort of. I pulled all that biotic logic out of my ass, so hopefully it made at least a little sense. Also, in almost everything I've read, using biotics makes people tired, or gives them headaches. In Alex's case, I have him converting excess biomass into his biotic potential as fuel instead of eezo, which is why he stumbled when he cut it off. It's essentially a mini-devastator in that it drains his biomass so long as he keeps it active.  
_

_System of checks and balances, people!  
_

_Chose to use the Collector method of biotics just for the hell of it, and because it's all part of my master plan-muahaha*hack, cough*ha... Anyway, in order to prevent Godmode!Alex (well he's already practically godmode, but seriously, adding telekinesis is just overkill) I'm only allowing him to harness the "Kinetic Fields" (mass-raising fields to immobilize objects) aspect of biotics. At least for now. Also, I love purple. So his biotics are going to be purple.  
_

_Yay, purple!  
_

* * *

_**Note: **This chapter and the one before it earned me my first purely negative review EVER. It was rather jarring, actually, and quite painful to my fragile teenage girl heart. But I'll try not to let it affect the quality or quantity of my updates. Hugs? Hugs for everyone? Please?  
_


	26. Chapter 26

Turns out the assassin _did_ find himself, if dropping out of a vent and taking out a group of mercs at point-blank range and then agreeing to come along of his own free will counted as 'finding himself.'

Shepard had been skeptical but relieved that the assassin hadn't caused any problems once he was aboard.

Alex, however, was thrilled.

They were _finally_ ready to go get that damn IFF, and he couldn't wait to get this show on the road. Sometimes he wondered if Shepard had _forgotten _that the Collectors weren't just going to wait around twiddling their thumbs while she goes around solving everyone's problems.

He paused, drumming fingers on the mess hall table. Maybe they _were_ just waiting around, wondering when Shepard planned to drop in and say hello. Shepard's mysterious benefactor hadn't reported any other colonies being hit, and it had to have been a week since Horizon. It made him wonder. Were they _waiting_ for Shepard?

It was a disturbing thought, and Alex didn't care to look too deep into it.

He lifted his head and blinked as Tali and Shepard rounded the corner, the quarian looking incredibly animated and Shepard just looked exhausted.

Business as usual, then.

"I need to charter passage, Shepard," Tali pleaded. "The Admiralty Board will pass judgment whether I'm there to defend myself or not."

Shepard sighed and stopped, folding her arms. "We don't have _time_, Tali. We need this IFF if we're going to get through the relay and get the colonists back."

"Shepard, they'll _exile_ me!" Tali protested, slashing a hand through the air, and Alex raised a brow. Tali was being accused of treason, then? He couldn't think of many other things that would make the Flotilla exile one of their own.

"What's this about exiling the quarian?" Alex asked, and Shepard jumped as if she hadn't seen him leaning there against the table.

Shepard sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "The Admirals are accusing Tali of treason, and she needs to appear at the Flotilla to represent herself. But we're already on route to the inactive Reaper for the IFF, and every second we waste is another chance for the Collectors to strike.

_So now she decides to get her shit together?_

Alex shook his head. "Can't you at least drop her off?"

"What, alone? Do you think I'm insane? I'm not leaving Tali to those jackals!"

Alex leveled a Look in her direction. "Then send someone with her. It's not rocket science, Shepard."

Tali rubbed her hands together nervously. "Er… actually, I'd need Shepard to come with me. As Captain of the ship, she would need to speak in my defense."

"That would have been nice to know earlier, Tali," Shepard slumped her shoulders. "Wait. You were ready to go off on your own. Without me there, how would you have defended yourself?"

"Well, it would not have been easy, and they probably would not listen to what I have to say…"

Alex eyed them. These people had really god-awful timing when it came to their personal crises. "All right." They both turned to look at him. "Here's what we're going to do. Shepard, you and the quarian and whoever else can go to the flotilla and fix this exile problem and I'll take some people with me to get the IFF."

Shepard blinked. "Alex, not to sound… _rude_… but you aren't exactly… _leadership_ material."

Alex rolled his eyes. "This isn't the boy scouts, Shepard. I'm not _leading_ anything. It's a dead Reaper. What all could there possibly be on board that we can't handle without your special brand of cheerleading?"

Shepard hesitated, looking conflicted, and caught Tali's pleading glance before sighing. "For the record, I do not like this plan." She sucked in a breath. "Alex, pick your squad. Joker will drop us off at the flotilla and pick us up when you're done. Don't get my crew killed or so help me I will drown you in Ryncol."

Alex grinned. "Don't sweat it, Shepard. What could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

"What was it you said, Mercer?"

Alex jumped over a blast launched from a scion somewhere across the room and cursed, slamming his claws into the ground and impaling a handful of husks on groundspikes, grabbing another with his whipfist and slamming it into the scion that had dared fire in his general direction.

"Shut up, Garrus."

Alex jerked his head to the side in time to see an abomination shrieking and dashing at where Kasumi was crouched behind some cover. He lurched towards her, fingers glowing purple, and stopped the flaming husk in its tracks, picking up a nearby explosive barrel and tossing it at the abomination, causing both to combust and fall shrieking over the side of the railing.

Garrus blew the head off a husk that had been sneaking up on Alex's flank, and he repaid the favor by not including him in the bio-bomb explosion that had just detonated to his right. "_What could possibly go wrong?_ Was that it?"

Alex growled, taking a precious moment to straighten and pin Garrus with a glare that had spelled death for countless individuals before him.

"So help me I will tear off your damn _face_, Garrus."

Garrus just chuckled and lined up another shot, tapping his scarred cheek with a talon. "Too late, Mercer."

Alex snarled under his breath and leapt at the nearest husk that had crawled out of the damn duct-work to try and bite his ankles. The things were damn annoying, all moaning and trying to claw ineffectually at his Collector-reinforced armor as they swarmed him by the dozens.

Perfect for devastators, not so perfect for not impaling his squad mates on spiked tentacles of death. It was easy to lose track of where they were in the chaos of being mobbed by glowing blue idiots, and he figured if Shepard found out he had 'accidentally' blown Garrus' head off with a well-placed explosive barrel, she might be a tad pissed and jettison him out the airlock.

At least they were easy to kill, even in great numbers, and so long as he kept them off Garrus and Kasumi the ones out of his reach were picked off before they became a problem. It was the scions that really got on his nerves. Big, ugly, glowing fat things that shot concentrated blue earthquakes at him that really threw him off his game. Jumping in the middle of an attack generally messed up his groove and made him lose his focus.

Damn scions.

Getting frustrated by the never-ending waves of Reaper-ized humans, he finally yelled a warning before falling to one knee, letting his biomass writhe angrily beneath his skin. Spiked tendrils erupted in all directions, spearing the swarming husks through the middle and slamming the scions backwards and over the railing. He pulled the tendrils back and only dimly had time to wonder if husks were even consumable before his body automatically begun taking them apart.

It was like chewing tinfoil; possible, but not particularly enjoyable. There wasn't much biotic material left in the synthetic shells, but there was enough to fix the scrapes he'd accumulated over the past hour or so of constant fighting and restore some of the biomass he'd used taking them out in the first place. He straightened and idly brushed off his jacket as he eyed the drained husks in a haphazard heap around him, lights blown out and pieces of their bodies missing. He grimaced, and then looked around to make sure he hadn't grabbed his squad on accident.

"You guys dead?"

Kasumi's black hood popped up from behind some demolished cover. She glanced at the pile of dead husks before hopping out and strolling over to his side almost casually. "You'll have to try harder than that, Lexi."

Alex smirked and then looked around for Garrus. "Vakarian?"

Something smacked him in the back of the head and he stumbled in surprise, arms immediately reshaping into claws as he whirled to face the threat. Garrus glared at him from behind his visor, wiping what looked like the inside of a scion off his armor. Alex hesitated. Had Garrus just slapped him?

"A little more warning next time, Mercer? You almost scratched my gun."

Alex frowned, furrowing his brow. "Damn. I missed."

Kasumi rolled her eyes as Garrus glared and started walking. "Come on boys; this friend fiction thingy won't find itself."

Garrus paused. "What did she just call it?"

"Just go with it, Vakarian."

* * *

**A/N: **_Mmm so yeah, I had really no idea what to do for this chapter, so have some husk-killing goodness. Thanks to all my lovelies who gave encouragement, and sorry if this got up a bit later than usual. I had to A) think of something to write in the first place, and B) do things with da grandparents. _

_Family. Go figure.  
_


	27. Chapter 27

Alex folded his arms, looking around the rather conspicuously spacious room. What did a Reaper need with all this space? Wasn't a Reaper the _ship?_ Wouldn't it make more sense for every conceivable inch to be utilized to the utmost? He shrugged. He'd let Shepard and the other nerds worry about that one.

He glanced back at Garrus and Kasumi. "Do either of you know what an IFF is supposed to look like?"

Kasumi looked up from where she'd been studying her boot. "I was just following you and checking out your ass."

Garrus shrugged. "A computer terminal?"

"Computer terminal. Sure. Let's go with that." Alex turned on his heel as he checked the room for anything resembling a computer. Satisfied that they weren't going to walk right past it without noticing, he headed for the nearest door. "And Kasumi?"

"Yes, Lexi?"

"Stop."

Kasumi smirked beneath her hood. "No promises."

Alex rolled his eyes and peered around the corner. The damn ship was chock full of husks. For an 'abandoned' ship, there sure were a _lot_ of hostiles crawling all over it. They'd found some dragon's teeth earlier, which explained what had happened to the crew Cerberus had sent over, but was the crew _really_ this large? He doubted it.

Did all Reapers come pre-equipped with a platoon of husks or something?

When nothing inherently dangerous jumped out to claw at his face, Alex stepped out and crept across the open expanse towards the nearest cover. As little good as cover did against something like husks, it was better to be safe than sorry when he was dragging two rather fragile crewmembers around with him.

He tensed when he heard the familiar clatter of husks crawling up the railing behind him, but before he could even turn, he saw two rather unsafe-looking projectiles flash by him on either side of his head and crack into the skulls of the unfortunate husks.

"Garrus, tell me that was you pulling some incredibly badass sniper trick out your ass."

Garrus looked at him from over to the left where he was still in the doorway. "I'm flattered you think so highly of my skills that I could defy physics, Mercer."

Alex really, _really_ did not want to get shot in the face again. He hated the moment of complete blindness when he has no idea what's around him and has to rely on _others_ to keep his ass out of the fire, so to speak. He looked up and found the sniper immediately, although the mere fact that the scope was lined up with his head but hadn't fired again was enough to make him _not_ chuck the nearest box at him.

Er… it. At _it_.

Because Alex was pretty damn certain that was a geth, and he was also pretty sure a geth did not belong on a dead Reaper.

The geth lowered its rifle and the flaps above its 'eye' flared up in what Alex would have sworn was surprise. "Mercer-ZEUS."

_Well shit. That isn't good._ Alex tensed. A talking geth? And the hell… _what_ had it called him?

He opened his mouth to reply but the geth had already stood and walked away, leaving him standing there like an idiot wondering what had just happened. That the geth knew about him was not surprising. He'd killed enough of them to merit a rather thorough background search; but that this one could _talk_, and knew his _name_ and his _title_…

That was mildly disconcerting.

Garrus strolled up beside him, looking up at where the geth sniper had been a few moments prior.

"Friend of yours, Mercer?"

"Shut up, Garrus."

* * *

Alex stumbled as the Reaper rocked, and he swore, pressing two fingers to the com-piece in his ear that Shepard had all but blackmailed him into wearing.

"_Put this in your damn ear before I glue it to your forehead."_

Needless to say, he had put it in his ear simply because he was in a hurry and didn't want to know what Shepard would use in place of glue if she couldn't find any. A welding torch, maybe?

"What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"The Reaper's mass effect core is back online!" Joker shouted back, and Alex winced at the volume of it. "It's got barriers up; you won't be getting out the way you came in."

"Congratulations Joker, you've made me deaf in one ear."

"You'll get over it. Listen, if you disable the mass effect core, the shields should drop and you can get the hell out of there." A pause. "Of course, that drive core is the same thing keeping the Reaper from plummeting into the planet."

Alex sighed. "Of course it is. All right. We still need to find the IFF—"

"Is this it?" Kasumi chimed in happily, holding a chip from a terminal placed conveniently to their left. Alex blinked at it.

"Never mind. Yeah; get the Normandy ready, we'll be out in a minute." He cut the connection and looked incredulously at the terminal. "Was that just sitting there?"

"Yep. Looks like the Cerberus crew found it and extracted it, and left it sitting here nice and pretty for us."

"That's not suspicious at all," Alex replied dryly, shrugging and turning back to the door. "So the Reaper Core is up ahead, and apparently once we turn it off we get to hightail it out of here before we crash into the planet's heart. Sounds fun."

Garrus stepped up and unlocked the door, only for a barrier to drop across it and block them out. "Well damn."

Alex glanced past the barrier and saw their geth sniper friend from earlier working at a terminal in front of a huge iris that just _had_ to be the Reaper Core. Some husks ambled up towards the geth, which dispatched them with a pistol shot each before finishing up on the terminal. The barrier fell just in time for another husk to knock the geth… unconscious? Dead? Off? Alex didn't really know the correct terminology for something like this.

Alex looked at the huge Reaper Core. "Right. You guys take that thing out; I'll keep the walkers busy."

It was almost pathetically easy to disable the Reaper Core with Garrus' sniper rifle, and the husks and abominations did almost nothing when they couldn't even get within arm's reach thanks to Alex's whipfist. The core shut down with a dramatic explosion, and Alex almost tripped over the—_unconscious?_—geth.

He looked down at it. This thing had talked. It knew who he was. It was also as good a shot as Garrus and, perhaps most curiously, had a piece of N7 armor welded to its shoulder.

Alex grunted and hefted the geth over his shoulder as he headed for the exit.

Garrus hurried to catch up. "Mercer, you sure about taking that with us?"

"Nope. But I want it, so I'm taking it."

Garrus sighed, exasperated. Alex just smirked as they broke into a sprint. Incredibly it took less time getting out than it had taken getting in, which was probably good considering they were in free fall towards a planet. Garrus and Kasumi jumped into the Normandy's cargo bay with Alex at their heels, and he watched with a grin as the Reaper promptly exploded as it hit the atmosphere.

He carried the geth up to the engineering deck and paused, wondering where he should put it. Jacob and Miranda appeared as if someone had called them and in a flurry of hands and curt sentences they'd whirled his captive geth off to parts unknown. Alex frowned.

He really wanted that geth.

"EDI, where are they taking it?"

"They have put the geth behind a kinetic barrier in the AI Core."

Alex paused mid-step. "Wait. They put a _geth_, a master hacker, into the _AI Core._"

"That is correct, Alex."

He sighed. "Am I the only one on this ship with any common sense?"

"You do not want me to answer that query."

"No. No I really don't."

* * *

**A/N: **_Legion! I love Legion so much. He was by far my favorite ME2 squad mate. I always took him and Garrus with me (well, for the one or two missions I could do before shit hit the fan and the game ended) everywhere. I really didn't know what to have Legion call Alex, since Shepard wasn't there and I couldn't use the famous "Shepard-Commander" line. Well, he calls Tali "Creator-Zorah" (Or is it Creator Zorah? oh well) and Shepard "Shepard-Commander," so Alex can be "Mercer-ZEUS."_


	28. Chapter 28

_Politics suck._

Shepard sighed, more than grateful to be back on the Normandy where the most political thing she has to do is settle petty arguments between crewmembers. She's also moderately surprised the ship hadn't combusted and come apart at the seams without her there to regulate everything, especially considering who she'd left in charge. She didn't see any bloodstains on the walls, couldn't find any dismembered squad mates left to bleed out on the floor, no signs of alien invasion or thermal meltdown…

All in all, everything seemed to be right with the world.

Shepard headed for armory; she'd double check and make sure everyone was still alive before she got too comfortable. Plus she'd have to check in with Alex and ensure they'd actually recovered the IFF, then she had to contact the Illusive Man and let him know the job got done, _and_ she had to go make sure Tali was handling the death of her father without falling into hysterics.

"Commander—"

"Not now, Joker; I have a lot to do and not a whole lot of time to do it."

"Commander you're going to want to hear this."

Shepard sighed and turned on her heel to head for the helm. She stepped up beside Joker's chair and the pilot flicked a glance up at her. "What is it, Joker?"

"Well, you know how some kids like to bring pets home with them?"

Shepard did not like where this was going. "Sure. Why, did someone get a pet varren?"

"Er, not… exactly. I'll just come out and say it. There's a geth in the AI Core." Joker paused. "An _active_ geth."

Shepard put her head in her hands. She leaves the ship alone for _one_ mission… She lowered her hands again and stared at the window. She had _just_ gotten out of a trial stemming from having geth on the Flotilla. Now she had them on the _Normandy?_

This day just kept getting better and better.

"It was Alex, wasn't it."

Joker nodded, trying to hide his smirk. "To his credit, his reasoning seemed pretty legit. Apparently it helped them out aboard the Reaper and it _spoke_ to them."

Shepard _really_ did not like where this was going. A talking geth on board the dead Reaper? That had to be bad.

"We were waiting for you to make the call, Commander. Miranda wanted to giftwrap it and send it back to her Cerberus buddies, and Jacob wanted to space it. Alex threatened to eat them if they did either, so it's still in the Core."

Shepard straightened. "All right. I'll go get Alex and we'll figure something out."

"Good luck, Commander. He's in one of his moods."

_Excellent._

* * *

Shepard folded her arms as she stared at the inert geth behind the barrier. Alex was leaning against the wall beside her, hands in his pockets, looking entirely too casual for having brought a damn _geth_ onto her ship.

"You say it spoke to you?"

"Well, if you count saying _Mercer-ZEUS_ and then walking off as 'speaking' to us. But it did help us out, and I don't know about you, but the fact that it's got N7 armor strapped to its chest is rather curious."

Shepard raised a brow and turned to him. "Mercer-ZEUS? It knows you?"

"It's a geth, Shepard," Alex explained, exasperated. "I'd be surprised if it _didn't_ know me." He looked at the geth lying on the table. "I think we should wake it up."

_Of course you do._ "Whose bright idea was it to put it in the AI Core?"

"Don't look at me. That has your Cerberus buddies written all over it." Alex snorted. "If it had been up to me, I'd have taken it to the cargo bay and reactivated it myself."

Shepard sighed and looked back at the geth. "All right. EDI, is it safe to turn this thing back on?"

"I am prepared to resist any hacking attempt, Shepard."

Shepard shook her head. Well, Alex trusted it—or at least he was mildly curious about it—and that was going to have be enough. She hesitated, fingers hovering over her omni-tool. She was trusting _Alex's_ judgment on this? Did she hit her head? With another sigh, she kick-started it with a shock from her omni-tool and watched as the geth's light flared on. It sat up slowly, as if uncertain where it was, and then turned to face them. It's shutter-eye twitched and fixed on Alex before transferring to her.

"Shepard-Commander," it intoned.

She blinked. Guess they weren't joking when they said it could talk. "Have we met?"

The geth stared at her. "We know of you."

Alex smirked. "Well you _have_ fought a lot of geth, Shepard."

It transferred its 'stare' to Alex, eye twitching, then looked back at Shepard. "We have never met."

"No, you and I haven't. But I've met other geth." _Less friendly geth._

"We are all geth. And we have not met you."

Shepard rubbed her temple. This was worse than interrogating Alex.

"You are Shepard. Commander. Alliance. Human. Fought heretics. Killed by Collectors." It looked at Alex again. "You travel with ZEUS. Blacklight. Mercer, Alex J. Origin unknown. Affiliations unknown. Humanity questionable. Fought heretics. Discovered on the Old Machine." A pause. "We have met."

Alex raised a brow and glanced at Shepard. "Looks like the geth have been keeping tabs on you, Commander."

Shepard sent him an irritated glare and he just smirked. She was going to have a headache after all this, she just knew it. "Ok wait. I fought what? Heretics?"

"Geth build our own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future. They are no longer part of us. We were studying the Old Machine's hardware to protect our future."

Shepard frowned as she studied the geth behind the barrier. It was impossible to know if the geth was telling the truth. She'd never heard of a geth lying, but she'd never heard one _talk_ either. She stepped close to the barrier. "So you aren't allied with the Reapers?"

The geth matched her step forward, cocking its head at her. "We oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines."

Shepard glanced at Alex. He turned to face her.

"Geth don't lie, Shepard. It wouldn't be logical to present a falsehood to a potential ally."

"Mercer-ZEUS is correct," the geth affirmed, not looking away from Shepard. "We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

Shepard shrugged. Works for her. She pulled up her omni-tool and powered down the barrier. "Then I only need to know what to call you."

The geth paused, as if not understanding the question. "Geth."

Alex snorted, and Shepard ignored him. She was getting good at that. "I mean _you_. Specifically," she gestured towards the geth with a hand and it mimicked her movement.

"We are all geth."

Shepard folded her arms. "What is the individual in front of me called?"

"There is no individual. We are geth." The geth paused. "There are currently 1,183 programs active within this platform."

Alex raised his brows, looking curious now. Then he frowned, muttering under his breath, almost bitterly, "_My name is Legion, for we are many_."

Shepard glanced over at him, impressed. "That seems appropriate," she mused, smirking.

The geth raised the flaps over its eye in a strange semblance of surprise and approval. "Christian Bible, the Gospel of Mark, chapter five, verse nine. We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor." It turned to face Shepard again. "We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. We will integrate into Normandy."

Shepard smiled. A geth crewmember. Bet the Illusive Man hadn't expected _that_. She held out her hand, and the geth looked at it before mimicking her, holding out its own three-fingered arm. It held it there hovering beside hers, so she grasped it and shook it firmly. "Welcome aboard, Legion."

Legion stepped back. "We anticipate the exchange of data."

Alex tapped her on the shoulder and guided her out, leaving the geth alone in the AI Core. He smirked at something and glanced at her. "You know, Tali's going to be _pissed_."

Shepard froze. She hadn't even gone to see Tali yet to check on her. And now they had a geth on the ship?

"Shit."

"Indeed."

* * *

**A/N: **_A Shepard chapter? Oh Elizabeth what are you thinking? Not much of note here except for activating Legion, which I pretty much took word for word from the game. I let Alex take EDI's role in naming him just because he's awesome that way, and he was standing there so conveniently. I anticipate many Legion/Alex conversations in the near future. Also, have you ever just watched Legion when you first turn him on? He mimics Shepard's movements most of the time, and it's ADORABLE. I just love him to pieces.  
_


	29. Chapter 29

**Note: **_The story is not dead. I did not give up on it. I am not dead. I'll provide a better whiny excuse at the bottom for yesterday's lack of update. _

_We now return you to your originally scheduled insanity.  
_

* * *

"This doesn't strike anyone else as a bad idea?" Alex leaned on the table, eyeing the gathered crew before letting his stare settle on Shepard. Why she called these little meetings was beyond him. Not everyone ever showed up; usually it was just him, Jacob, the Cerberus Bitch, and Mordin that deigned to arrive.

And he'd only come because he'd been bored.

"EDI assures us it's safe, Alex," Shepard insisted, not looking entirely convinced.

The Bitch chose this moment to speak up. "The Illusive Man had EDI installed for this very purpose, Commander. He wouldn't have cut corners with something of this importance."

Alex paused. _Wait. The Illusive Man knew we'd need the IFF? And he didn't say anything? _He snorted. _Selfish bastard._

Alex had never spoken to Timmy, as he'd come to affectionately refer to Cerberus' elusive leader, but he'd heard enough stories from Shepard and enough worship from the Bitch to know he was only as trustworthy as a rabid varren. Alex stared thoughtfully at the table. If Timmy was Cerberus' middle head, who were the other two? You couldn't very well name yourself after the three-headed guard dog of hell and only have a single person in control.

He filed the question away for later. He'd find out who pulled the strings, if only because they'd managed to dig up enough dirt on him to point Shepard in his direction.

"It's still Reaper tech," Alex pointed out. "Shouldn't we test it first before we plug it into our ship's AI? What if it's rigged to explode, or what if it's actually a homing beacon in disguise? Wouldn't that be a bad thing?"

"EDI _ran_ tests on it, Alex," Shepard sighed, "She didn't find anything out of the ordinary besides the obvious. She's going to integrate it; should be ready in a few hours."

Alex drummed his fingers on the tabletop, not responding. Something didn't feel right. Something nagged at the back of his head where he pushed the less savory personalities he consumed, but damn if he knew what it was. But Shepard was the Commander, and she'd proven to be at least moderately capable when it came to making enlightened decisions.

"All right," he finally growled, "but when the ship goes up in flames don't come crying to me." He turned and stalked back to the elevator, twitchy in a way that he almost never was. This was how he'd felt on the Reagan, how he'd felt when he first laid eyes on Greene, when he heard the nuke detonate underwater too close for him to outrun.

It was a very distinct feeling, and one he was all too familiar with.

_Shit's about to get real._

* * *

Alex paced the cargo hold, flexing his fingers and feeling his biomass flicking across his skin in unease. The feeling was not going away with time. In fact, it was all but _increasing_. Shepard had come by asking him to suit up and head to the shuttle, and he wasn't sure if he was going to go or not. He finally threw his hands in the air and slipped out, peeking into the engineering bay. Tali wasn't at her station.

He frowned and looked in Grunt's room. He was gone, too. Well that wasn't _too_ strange. It was possible that Shepard had chosen to take Tali and Grunt with her on whatever mission she was doing.

But Jack wasn't down in the hold either, and Alex _knew_ Shepard never took Jack on any missions.

He took the elevator up a floor and checked all the rooms. Jacob, the Bitch, Garrus, Kasumi, even _Mordin_. They were all gone. As an afterthought he checked in on Legion, but the geth was missing too. Had Shepard taken the _entire crew_ with her?

Alex glanced out the window at the massive space station they'd approached. A geth 'heretic' station, or something to that effect. Sure it was likely to be just chock full of geth goodness, but did that really warrant taking the whole damn crew?

"Joker," Alex asked warily as he approached the helm. "Where is everyone?"

"Miranda suggested they bring everyone down in the shuttle since EDI's systems will be down for a while. The IFF is still installing."

Alex blinked. "Let me get this straight. Shepard took _the entire crew_ on a shuttle that previously could only carry three people comfortably at a time down to that station."

"That's about it," Joker admitted, glancing up from the terminal. "She wanted to take you, too, but you didn't show."

Alex tensed. "Something's not right," he muttered, almost to himself, and Joker raised a brow. "This cannot possibly be a good idea."

An alarm wailed to their right and both men stared at it. Joker's fingers began to fly over the consoles in front of him faster than Alex could follow, and Alex listened with half an ear as the pilot and AI began to argue.

"I'm telling you EDI, your readings are off," Joker finally said, sounding exasperated. "It's radiation bleed, just white noise."

If anything in Alex's considerable experience had taught him anything, it was that it was _never_ just white noise.

EDI confirmed it a heartbeat later. "I have detected a signal embedded in the static." _Well, shit._ "We are transmitting the Normandy's location."

Alex smirked dryly, staring out the window. "I hate it when I'm right."

Joker glanced at him, looking confused. "Transmitting? To _who?_"

Alex turned his head to the side as the Collector ship spontaneously snapped into position above them, slowing from a mass relay jump. Alex tensed. The only way this could be in any way worse would be if they tried to board.

"Oh, shit," Joker cursed, leaning back as the ship momentarily eclipsed their field of vision. He immediately began to work the controls again. "We're getting out of here!"

"Propulsion systems are disabled. I am detecting a virus in the ship's computers."

"And for once it isn't my fault," Alex mused, readying his claws as he turned. Joker eyed him nervously.

"What are you doing?"

"What, you think they just showed up to scare us?" Alex snorted, keeping an eye on the airlock. "I thought you guys checked the IFF before installing it."

"Primary defenses are offline," EDI continued as if Alex had not spoken, "We can save the Normandy, Jeff. Alex. But you must help me."

Alex stumbled a bit as the ship rocked, and the nameless crewmembers swarmed the area with assault rifles trained on the airlock. Alex slipped away to stand back beside Joker. The pilot would be vulnerable, and if Alex had the choice between a bunch of humans that he didn't know, or Joker, he'd stick with the Vrolik's kid.

"Give me the ship," EDI all but demanded, sounding just a little uneasy. Alex was impressed she'd managed to synthesize that much.

Joker, typically, did not care much for that suggestion. "What? You're crazy. You start singing _Daisy Bell_ and I'm done."

"Unlock my sealed databases, and I can initiate countermeasures. The maintenance shaft in the science lab will allow passage to the AI core."

"Didn't you already lose one Normandy by ignoring advice?" Alex muttered, eyes still trained on the hallway entrance. He could feel Joker go still beside him. "Don't make the same mistake again, Joker. Shepard isn't here to pull your ass out of the fire this time."

"Main corridors are no longer safe. The Collectors have boarded."

Joker cursed again, struggling out of his chair and limping to stand beside Alex. "Yeah, ok. _Damn it._"

"The emergency floor lighting will guide you, Jeff."

Alex glanced at Joker, who for someone with bones made of glass was actually standing upright surprisingly well. He must be wearing leg braces. "Hey don't worry, man. I'll watch your back." Alex grinned, flexing his claws and pulling his armored form over his skin and tinting the world yellow.

Joker stared at him miserably. "Shit."

* * *

This was not a good way to start off an evening. Joker limped along as fast as he could go, skipping around crew members shouting at each other and brandishing assault rifles. He was painfully aware of how unarmed he was compared to everyone else, but he supposed having Alex at his back counted as being armed to the teeth.

"Shit, shit, shit…" Joker chanted as he followed the lights in the floor to the science lab. He could almost hear Alex smirking behind him. Of all the crewmembers he could be stuck with, it just _had_ to be the sadistic viral monster that _ate people_ for a living.

The elevator sprang open and some kind of blue thing with skulls in its mouth screeched at them, flanked by a Collector on either side. Joker heard Goldstein curse aloud before raising her assault rifle.

"Oh my God! What _is_ that?" she whispered as she got off a round into the thing's face. Hadley saw Joker and Alex limp-sprinting towards the doors and backed up a step, raising his rifle to provide cover.

"We'll hold it off as long as we can—"

The blue thing screeched and leapt at the nearest crewmember, impaling him on a spiked leg and making several crewmembers scream.

"Hurry, Joker! Go!"

As if he needed the encouragement. A Collector lunged at him, rifle raised, and then suddenly its arm was severed at the elbow and claws erupted from its chest, ripping it in half. Alex shook his claws to dislodge some gore and glanced at Joker staring at him, mouth agape.

"Well don't just stand there," Alex insisted, gesturing towards the door, and Joker hurried through it, Alex at his heels.

Joker tried to ignore the fact that he could feel his legs burning from overuse, that he could hear Hadley crying out in agony behind the door as God-knows-what tore him apart, that the only thing between him and certain death was a psychotic bioweapon currently carving a bloody swath through the Collectors they passed on their way to the lab, laughing.

"Shit." Joker glanced up and saw another of those skull-mouth things hovering by a window next to the shaft. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit."

Alex paused by the shaft, claws twitching, and he stared at the thing behind the glass as Joker clambered down the ladder. Once he was at the bottom Alex simply fell through the hole and landed at the base, straightening and looking around. "Huh. Wonder why I never noticed this before."

"Multiple hostiles detected on the crew deck," EDI's alarmed voice informed them once they turned for the door.

"Not for long," Alex growled as Joker hurried towards Hawthorne standing by the door.

"Joker! This deck is crawling with those things! Stay close—I'll protect you!" he shouted before jogging back through the door, assault rifle in hand. Joker limped after him and saw him round a corner, only for Hawthorne to come flying back and hit the ground with a sickening _crunch_ and go still.

Joker froze, staring at a scion that was dragging a screaming Chambers into the elevator.

"Shit, shit, shit!" They weren't just killing the crew. They were _abducting _them. Like the colonists. The doors slid shut an instant before Alex reached them, cursing and pounding the door with his fist. He snarled and looked back at a stunned Joker, before grabbing his wrist and pulling him along.

"Shit! Watch it!" Joker protested. He felt like his entire arm just shattered. Damn but the man had one hell of a grip.

"Then _move_, Joker!" Alex growled back, all but shoving him through the door into the med bay. "You can have a panic attack _after_ we get these bastards off the damn ship."

Joker hurried through the med bay doors, hearing Alex snarl something and then the screech of a dismembered Collector before he appeared back in the doorway, a bit bloodier than when Joker had last seen him.

"Main fusion plant offline. Activating emergency H fuel cells," EDI chimed in from above them.

"What the shit!" Joker whispered as he limped into the AI core towards EDI's terminal. He slowed and stared at the console. "All right, I'm at, uh, you."

"Connect the core to the Normandy's primary control module."

Joker sighed. "Great," he grumbled as he did as she asked, "See, this is where it starts, and when we're all just organic batteries, guess who they'll blame?" He paused and continued in a joking voice. "_This is all Joker's fault. What a tool he was. I have to spend all day computing pi because he plugged in the Overlord._"

Alex barked a laugh off to his right and Joker stepped back once he'd finished. The lights flashed off and he looked around as the unmistakable chatter of electronics filled the air.

The lights flicked back on, followed by a strangely satisfied-sounding EDI. "Ah. I have access to the defensive systems. Thank you, Jeff. Now you must reactivate the primary drive in engineering."

Joker snarled. "Augh! You want me to go crawling through the ducts again."

"I enjoy the sight of humans on their knees."

Joker paused and stared at EDI with a cocked brow as Alex stepped up beside him.

"So do I," Alex added, completely serious.

"That is a joke," EDI clarified when Joker remained silent.

"Mine isn't," Alex shot back, still sounding deadly serious.

"Right," Joker interrupted, turning back towards the shaft.

"The shaft behind you connects to the engineering deck. Good luck."

Joker crawled down the ladder, wondering at it. These shafts seemed awfully convenient. Did the guy who designed the ship know this kind of thing was going to happen? Why else would the shafts be where they needed to in order to unshackle the AI and break every galactic law ever written about such things?

Once he'd stepped away and Alex had fallen through again, Joker picked up the pace. By now the crew had to be all either dead or gone; this was taking far too long.

"Hostiles are present in engineering. They are heading towards the cargo bay."

"Bastards better stay out of my room," Alex muttered and Joker again questioned his sanity.

Joker sprinted for the stairs only to have something grab the collar of his shirt and yank him back. He began to protest when Alex wordlessly pointed at the shadows moving across the wall. There were Collectors up there, and Joker had almost run right into them.

"Thanks," Joker whispered once he'd been released and was able to move towards the steps again.

"Who else is going to fly the damn ship?"

Joker pretended that translated to _you're welcome, Jeff_ and kept going.

"Engineering is clear of hostiles," EDI informed them, "Proceed immediately to minimize chances of detection."

_No shit, EDI._ Joker hurried through engineering towards the drive core and began ceding control to the Overlord.

"Activate the drive and I will open the airlocks as we accelerate. All hostiles will be killed."

Joker paused and looked up. "What? What about the crew?"

"Joker, the odds of them still being alive at this point are about as high as me bursting into song," Alex interrupted, dismissing his armored form with a flicker of tendrils.

"Alex is correct, Jeff," EDI replied softly, "The Collectors took them."

Joker sighed and headed for the last terminal. "Shit…" he muttered half-heartedly.

"I am sealing the engine room." A whir of motion as the drive core powered up. "I have control."

The drive core lit up like a Christmas tree and Joker took a step back in time for the whole ship to lurch forward in the jump. Joker flew back and collided with Alex, who grunted and stumbled to the ground as the ship rocketed away.

When the rumbling finally stopped and the ship slowed to a reasonable pace, Joker opened his eyes again. He heard a faint clicking and looked to the side and saw claws drumming on the steel flooring, agitated.

"I like you, Joker," a very dangerous voice said from beneath him, and Joker idly remembered where he was and who he was on top of. "So I'll give you to the count of three to get the _hell_ off of me before I consume you and fly the damn ship myself."

Joker scrabbled to get to his feet, aware that the drumming had increased.

"One…"

Joker rolled to the side and groaned as he felt something important break. A rib, from the stabbing pain in his abdomen. He felt someone pull him to his feet and he braced an arm on Alex's shoulder until he was confident he wouldn't fall over again. He held an arm around his side and grit his teeth as Alex stepped away.

"Purge is complete," EDI began, "No other life forms on board. Securing airlocks and cargo bay doors."

Joker sighed and leaned one hand on the railing. "Send a message to Shepard's shuttle. Tell her what happened."

"Message away. Are you feeling well, Jeff?"

Joker rolled his shoulder and headed back for the door. "No. But thanks for asking."

Alex beat him there and fell silent as they headed for the elevator. "Look on the bright side, Joker." Joker paused to stare at him in disbelief. What _bright side_ could there possibly be? The entire crew was abducted by the Collectors! "At least you've still got me."

Joker sighed and pressed his forehead against the elevator doors. "Shit."

* * *

**A/N: **_*clears throat* Yeah, I missed yesterday. I did laugh when I got like two reviews wondering where I'd gone, and that was pretty flattering. To be honest, I just got Fallout 3 in the mail at like 10:30 in the morning, and I didn't stop playing it until 11:00 at night. So that's what I was doing all of yesterday. I had kind of hoped no one would notice that I'd missed a day xD So much for THAT idea._

_As I'm sure you noticed, this chapter is mostly canon, with dialogue taken right from the game. So not very interesting, but give me some credit. I had to churn this thing out right after burning out over work. No way was I letting you guys hang for TWO whole days! I love you guys too much for that. Heh. :)  
_

_Anywho, the Collectors have boarded! And Joker's POV because he's awesome and because I can. Alex staying on the ship for the Collector attack was me being unsure how to handle Legion's loyalty mission (which is what Shepard and the entire rest of the crew presumably flew off to accomplish. My Shepard may be a bit scatterbrained, but she's not stupid enough to go off in a shuttle without a destination, like she does in-game).  
_

_Fallout is awesome. I'm off to play some more of it. Bai!  
_


	30. Chapter 30

Alex tapped a rhythm on the floor near the cargo hold doors with his foot, idly looking around the damaged walls where Collector particle weapons had scorched the room and assault rifle rounds had riddled some boxes full of holes. The security monitors had been shot to hell and only one of them still displayed a flickering, static image of the engineering bay.

Bastards had gone into his room.

Alex frowned. He didn't have any material possessions here that he had to worry about the Collectors getting their grubby little talons on, but he hated it when people went into his personal space.

"Alex, Joker, get to the com room. _Now_," Shepard's voice barked over the intercom, and Alex slid through the doors to the elevator.

It was so quiet now. There was no sound of Grunt beating a metal box into submission or headbutting the windows to test their density, no incredibly loud screamo-rock music wailing from the floor below as Jack attempted to shatter the eardrums of every living soul within a thousand yards, no excited chatter from the Engineering bay as Tali and those Cerberus engineers babbled on about how to upgrade the drive core…

There was only the hum of the ship kept aloft only by the grace of EDI, and Alex didn't care for it.

Silence was the precursor to violence, to death, to destruction. And while he enjoyed all three of those things immensely, he preferred to be the cause of it rather than be _caught_ in it. He waited impatiently as the elevator crawled up to the main deck. He loathed elevators.

When they opened he stepped out in time to catch Joker hobbling towards the science bay, so Alex fell into step beside him for lack of anything better to do. He had to admit he was impressed. He had thought Joker would be a liability, being unarmed and crippled as he was, but the man had only frozen once and didn't lose his calm.

He did however seem to have forgotten how to say anything other than _shit_. That had been rather amusing.

Alex tapped the door open and was met by the sight of almost the whole crew crowded around the table. The Bitch in particular looked extraordinarily pissed, while Shepard just looked concerned. Joker hesitated behind him and Alex grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged the protesting pilot inside.

Alex released him by the table and stepped over to stand in front of Shepard, hands clasped behind his back as he cocked his head at her, piercing her with icy blue eyes from beneath his hood. She stiffened minutely.

Alex let a grin pull at his mouth and almost laughed when she took a step back. "I told you so."

* * *

Shepard sighed and rubbed her temples with two fingers. Alex was easily one of the oldest beings on the ship, but he acted like a _child_ sometimes. "Thank you, Alex. I was not aware." She straightened again as Alex smirked and leaned against the table, and she turned to face the only other member of her crew that wasn't MIA. "What happened, Joker?"

"The IFF had a tracking signal embedded in the static," Joker began, and Alex coughed over another _I told you so_ at her side. She sent him a withering glare, which he returned with another shit-eating grin, before looking back at Joker and motioning for him to go on. "The Collectors boarded and abducted the rest of the crew while Alex and I helped EDI regain control of the ship."

Miranda chose that moment to snap and step forward threateningly. "You lost all of them? _All_ of them? _And_ you unshackled the damn AI?"

Joker bristled. "Hey! We did the best we could!"

Shepard was about to step in when Miranda suddenly went very pale, eyes wide, and Shepard paused in confusion before she noticed Alex was missing. Well, perhaps _relocated_ was a better word for it, since he was standing beside Miranda now with an arm slung around her shoulders as if they were the best of friends.

But it was the sight of the tentacles crawling around her side from somewhere behind her that made Shepard hesitate. She'd seen those very tentacles rip a man apart and dissolve him from the inside out. She'd seen them _consume_ people. She could understand why Miranda did not want them touching her.

"Now Miss Lawson," Alex purred, squeezing her shoulder almost affectionately, and Miranda actually _whimpered_. "What did I say about playing nice with others?"

Miranda flicked helpless eyes to the monster beside her, twitching nervously.

"Do we need to have that _talk_ again?"

Miranda shook her head desperately, fingers flexing uselessly as she glanced down at the tentacles that had slid to wrap around her waist and back up to the cold blue eyes of Alex Mercer. Alex grinned, but there was nothing pleasant or amused about it. It was the smile of someone looking at a particularly delicious piece of meat, and Shepard took a step forward to break it up at the same time Alex stepped away innocently, releasing her and letting the tendrils sink back into his skin as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Good girl," Alex smirked, sliding back to lounge against the table near Joker, eyes hidden by his hood.

_What was _that_ all about?_ Shepard blinked, before remembering what she'd meant to say. "Right. I'm sure you did your best, Joker. It's a good thing Alex stayed behind or this could have been a lot worse."

Alex raised a brow. "Why _did_ you take the whole damn crew with you, Shepard?"

Miranda found her voice again, albeit it was emotionless and not directed at Joker or the virus at his side. "T-that was my fault, Commander. I should have anticipated something like this would occur. With the systems down, I incorrectly assumed that it would be more efficient to bring the entire crew so you could choose your squad en route rather than reach the destination and be unprepared."

Shepard sighed. "It's nobody's _fault_, Miranda. We have the IFF, and about unshackling EDI… well, she's had plenty of chances to kill us and hasn't done so yet. We should start thinking about heading through the Omega 4 Relay and hitting the Collectors where they live."

"Some of the crew are still not entirely focused on the mission, Commander," Miranda reminded her. "We should be certain that we're as prepared as possible before going through. It could very well be a one-way trip."

Shepard sighed. Miranda had a point. She hated letting the Collectors keep her people any longer that necessary, but a distraction among her crew could get them all killed. She still needed to help Jacob find his father, Thane find his son, and Grunt was still an agitated mess that needed krogan expertise, not to mention Mordin's missing student.

She didn't have the time to handle all of this at once. With a steadying breath she straightened. "We need to be absolutely sure we're ready before we hit the Relay. Joker, get back to the helm and set a course for Tuchanka. We've got business there." As Joker saluted and stood to go, she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "If you need to talk, I'll be here." He shrugged it off and nodded, limping away. Shepard dismissed everyone but Miranda and Alex, waving them closer as she outlined her idea.

"We've got two members of the crew who have business on Tuchanka, Grunt and Mordin. My idea is for us to split up and tackle them both at once to cover more ground; time is of the essence, here."

Alex shrugged. "Probably the first logical move you've made since I joined, Shepard."

Shepard ignored him. "Alex, you'll go with Grunt and find the medical attention he needs. Take someone else with you to be safe; the krogan are quick to anger and slow to forgive, and I _don't_ need you causing an incident."

"You're assigning me a babysitter?" Alex growled, hunching his shoulders.

"Basically yes," Shepard admitted, raising a brow. "Unless you can _promise_ me you won't get into any fights or challenge anyone's honor."

Alex tensed, drumming his fingers on the table. "I promise nothing."

"Then you get a babysitter. I'm letting you decide who it is." Shepard turned to Miranda. "Garrus and I will take Mordin and find this former student of his. You're in charge until I get back, and I don't want to hear that you've been picking on Joker."

"Yes, Commander."

Shepard straightened and nodded. "Dismissed." She watched as Miranda saluted and slipped out the door, leaving her alone with Alex. She sighed and waved a hand. "Go on, get it over with."

Alex held up a hand and began ticking off fingers. "I have lived through a military occupation, single-handedly stopped the worst viral outbreak in the history of man, survived a nuclear explosion," Shepard jerked in surprise at that, "fought in the First Contact War at Shanxi, done three year stints with both Eclipse and the Blue Suns, and killed and consumed enough military personnel to make me the strategic equivalent of a six hundred and seventy-four star general." He lowered his hands and stepped into her personal space, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of backing away. "So the next time I say something sounds like a bad idea, maybe you should listen."

"Duly noted," Shepard replied, struggling not to react to his proximity or the warring signals her brain was sending her to either _run away_ or _eliminate the threat_.

Alex's eyes flashed. "Don't get me wrong, Shepard, I respect your right to make dumb-ass decisions that endanger the lives of everyone aboard this ship. What I _don't_ respect is your right to make those dumb-ass decisions without looking for other options first. There is _always_ another way, Commander. Keep that in mind," Alex finished cryptically before saluting her with two fingers and backing away and vanishing through the door.

* * *

**A/N: **_30 chapters! Whee! And oh silly Miranda. I almost feel kind of bad for her. Almost. Ok not really. She's just so fun to torment~_

_And to my anonymous reviewer, Kane, Commander Shepard taking the entire crew before the Collectors attack is canon for Mass Effect 2. I just chose to leave Alex behind and poke holes in Bioware's logic.  
_


	31. Chapter 31

Alex leaned against the med bay wall as he considered his options. Tuchanka was one of the few planets he had only visited once—out of sheer curiosity—and the only one he actively avoided. It wasn't because the krogan were as prone to violence as he was, or that he could barely take a step outside the city walls before a thresher maw rammed itself up his ass, but because the entire planet felt _dead_. He knew the krogan had done it to themselves, their own unique version of a nuclear holocaust, but the lingering feeling of death beneath the soil and thick in the air left a bad taste in his mouth.

And now he was returning because Grunt had a tummy ache.

With a _babysitter_. How precious.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Shepard seemed determined to keep him on a tight leash; it was amusing since she seemed unaware he'd broken his tether _long_ ago. At least she was letting him pick who he dragged along for the ride. Jacob was too quiet for his tastes, Garrus and Mordin were going with Shepard, Kasumi would probably bake under the Tuchanka sun in that black getup of hers, there was no way in _hell_ he was taking the Bitch or Samara anywhere unless he was allowed to eat her afterwards…

_Isn't there a handy-dandy robot in the AI core?_ Alex smirked and slipped into the door. It would be interesting to see Legion in action, and the odds of the geth actually caring what he did with himself were second to none.

The geth was standing silently in the same place it'd been when he last saw it, but its eye shifted like a camera shutter and focused on him as he entered. "Mercer-ZEUS," Legion greeted.

"Suit up, Legion. We're going to Tuchanka."

"Acknowledged."

Alex paused mid-turn. "What kind of weapons do you use?"

"This platform is equipped with an M-98 Widow Anti-Material Rifle. We are proficient with assault and sniper-based weaponry," Legion replied, refocusing on him.

Alex grinned. "The M-98? Damn. Been wanting to get my hands on one of those. Think you could share the schematics for it?"

"Affirmative. We will forward relevant material at your convenience."

"Legion, I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."

"We anticipate the exchange of data."

* * *

"You're bringing the robot?" Grunt grumbled, eyeing Legion like one might eye a vorcha with a second head.

"It's my babysitter," Alex admitted cheerily as he lounged against the shuttle wall, and Shepard covered her eyes across from him.

Legion turned its head to stare at him. "We do not understand the connotation of the term 'babysitter.' There are no infantile organisms present in the immediate vicinity."

"Oh yes there are," Shepard broke in, glaring at Alex, who just grinned unashamed. "Just keep an eye on him, Legion. Don't let him start any kind of interspecies incident."

"Acknowledged, Shepard-Commander."

"You never let me have any fun," Alex pouted, folding his arms. Shepard rolled her eyes and ignored him, so Alex turned to look at Legion again.

The geth fascinated him. He'd never been in close contact with one that wasn't trying to kill him, and the chance to see one in action put him in the unique position to observe potential weaknesses and flaws in strategy without actually fighting one. Plus there was always the fact that Legion could talk and was moderately more amiable to speaking with him than the majority of the crew.

"Hey Legion, do you ever talk to yourself?"

"We do not understand the question."

"I mean, you've got 1,183 programs in there right? Doesn't that get crowded? Do they ever argue or have conversations that you're not a part of? Do you get lonely?"

Legion paused. "We do not communicate in the same manner as organics. In the time it would take you to voice a question, we have already reached consensus and determined the proper way to respond. Geth do not become 'lonely.' This is a human term for a feeling of isolation, and geth are always in constant contact with one another." Legion dipped its head a bit. "Does Mercer-ZEUS have an alternative reason for this line of questioning?"

Alex hummed, looking around the shuttle and all the attention he was attracting. "I'll tell you later, Legion."

"Acknowledged, Mercer-ZEUS."

The shuttle touched down and the groups stood, Shepard giving some last-minute warnings (mostly to Alex, which he ignored) about staying polite and not angering the krogan.

"_No fighting_, Alex," Shepard warned as Garrus and Mordin hopped out of the shuttle to flank her.

"Shepard, this is Tuchanka. You're sending me into a group of krogan with nothing but a geth infiltrator and a tank-bred grunt for company. The odds of me _not_ getting into a fight are astronomically low."

She just sighed. "All right. You three give us about fifteen minutes before following; we need to go see Wrex and make sure he knows you're coming." Shepard eyed him. "You can be… startling the first time someone meets you, and I don't need the krogan trying to prove their worth by committing suicide by virus."

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Commander," Alex grinned beneath his hood as Shepard shook her head and led her team down the steps and out of sight. He turned to Grunt, who was staring around the landing pad, unimpressed. "So Grunt, what do you think of the krogan homeworld so far?"

"It's a trash heap," Grunt huffed, hefting his shotgun.

"How remarkably eloquent," Alex replied, giving the agitated baby krogan his space. "What about you, Legion? Your thoughts?"

Legion turned to face him. "No data available."

_Well that's a pleasant way to say 'piss off.'_ Alex mused, shrugging. He waited exactly seven minutes before deciding that fifteen was eight minutes too many and headed for the stairs, Grunt and Legion at his back.

"Any ideas where we should look to find out what's wrong with Grunt?"

"Shepard-Commander instructed us to speak with the clan chieftain before proceeding," Legion informed him, and Alex nodded, not surprised she'd given the geth instructions on how to handle things.

She really didn't trust him at all, did she?

The inside of Tuchanka was just as glamorous as the outside, only with more krogan giving them odd looks as they made their way down the stairs. Alex supposed seeing a human in a hoodie, a geth, and a krogan walking together was not a common occurrence. It sounded like the beginning of a really bad joke.

_A krogan, a virus, and a geth walk into a bar…_

He heard scattered conversations that mostly pertained to wanting to kill turians and salarians in variously creative ways, and almost laughed aloud. Oh Shepard must have had a _blast_ walking through here with Garrus and Mordin at her heels.

Finding the chief wasn't too difficult, considering he was on a throne-like dais above everyone else in the middle of the camp. As Alex nonchalantly headed up the steps, he couldn't help but admit that the krogan warlord sitting in the chair looking bored was quite impressive. Three long scars cut across the right side of his face, and he glanced over at them as they approached, managing to look both curious and uninterested at the same time.

The krogan, which had to be Urdnot Wrex, grunted at them and leaned forward. "You must be Mercer, the creature Shepard warned me about." He narrowed his eyes. "You look like a human, but you smell like death."

Alex grinned, flashing teeth. "Shepard warned you about me? I'm touched. Anyway, I'm sure she told you why we're here," he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Grunt.

"She did indeed," Wrex stood from his chair. "The tank-bred is undergoing his Rite of Passage. Do you wish to join Urdnot, grunt?"

Alex zoned out at that, since krogan politics interested him about as much as watching paint dry. He'd done that once, just sat and watched some paint dry. It had not been a particularly rewarding experience. He glanced to the side and saw some varren fighting in a pit, and that held his interest for all of thirty seconds before he heard Wrex talking to him again.

"Go and speak with the shaman. He will test your tank-bred and determine his worth."

Alex nodded and headed down the steps to go and find this 'shaman.' Hopefully it would be something simple, like giving Grunt a shot and a lollipop and sending him on his way.

But of course it couldn't be that easy. There was already a sizeable group of angry krogan around the shaman, and for some odd reason they decided arguing with him was the best course of action.

"The tank-bred is not true krogan!" the one in the blue armor shouted, looking as ticked as a krogan could possibly be. "It will pollute the Rite! How do we know the creatures will not simply ignore it like a sack of flesh?"

Alex sighed and folded his arms. "All right. I'll bite. Who put a stick up _your_ ass, Uvenk?"

The krogan looked down at him and did the krogan equivalent of a sneer. "This is the tank-bred's krantt? A human and a machine?"

Alex slowly tensed and let the ever-present malice flicker in his gaze. The krogan began exchanging glances at the chance in the atmosphere as Alex chuckled. "You debate like a salarian, Uvenk. Does your krantt also fight with words?"

"You dare!" the krogan roared, hefting a shotgun.

Alex let his biomass flow to his hands and struck the uppity-ass krogan in the face with a hammerfist, sending him flying back and through the wall to land on the floor below. The krogan's krantt stared at him with open mouths. It was rather comical to see so many krogan look so flabbergasted.

"Anyone else feel like being stupid today?" Alex asked casually, letting his hands shift back into normal as he shoved them in his pockets. The shaman laughed loudly and the krantt backed down, some hurrying down the steps to check on Uvenk, others just staring out the hole he'd made with his body. "Thought so."

* * *

Alex was getting irritated. Killing wave upon wave upon _wave_ of varren and klixen was only entertaining for the first ten minutes. Now it was just annoying.

He tore through three of the approaching varren with his whipfist before stabbing the claws on his other hand through the klixen ambling up behind him, leaping back before it had a chance to combust as they were wont to do upon death. Grunt was roaring off to the left, using his shotgun as a club when something got too close, and Legion had perched itself on top of some debris and was picking off the stragglers with its M-98.

Alex turned, shifting his arm to a blade, and paused to strike a target that wasn't there. He stopped and lowered his arm, looking around. Grunt huffed a laugh and adjusted his grip on his shotgun.

"Is that all you've got?" Grunt yelled, obviously enjoying the bloodshed. Legion rose from its crouching position, flaps over its eye raising and lowering comically.

"Hostiles terminated," it informed them as it rejoined them near the button that had started all of this.

Alex sighed. "What's next? Rachni?"

Grunt chuckled. "Heh. That'd be something. A chance to fight our ancient foe…"

Alex ignored him and slammed his elbow into the button, ignoring the weird monologue that spouted from the megaphones as the hammer slammed into the ground. He waited for several heartbeats and nothing happened. He had just opened his mouth to complain about it when he felt it.

A tremor, just beneath the ground. He immediately went on the defensive, idly noting the other two hadn't felt it yet. But he knew that feeling, that sound. He'd felt it in New York Zero, Hydras burrowing beneath the ground. Only this felt like _fifty_ Hydras all bunched together in a massive wave. Whatever it was, it was big.

And there was only one species of large burrowing creature present on Tuchanka, and it was enough to make Alex laugh. A thresher maw. A damn _thresher maw._

"Eyes on the horizon, boys," Alex called, sprinting for the edge of the arena-like area. "We've got ourselves a Son of Kalros."

"A Maw?" Grunt replied, sounding incredibly excited as he jogged to some sturdy cover without a second thought. "About damn time."

Alex watched carefully as he felt the vibrations beneath his feet. The Maw was a big one, to be sure. Not the largest he'd encountered, but he'd never stood and fought one before. The few times he'd been on a planet with thresher maws present, he had avoided contact with them simply because he'd not wanted to risk fighting something he knew nothing about. But here was one that came right to them, and he had a krogan and a geth at his back.

When he saw the Maw burst from the rock a good ways away from the arena—too far for conventional weapons to reach with any great accuracy—Alex made a split second decision.

"Legion! Aim for its tongue; it's a possible weak spot. And Grunt, draw its attention, but don't die or Shepard will have my hide."

"Acknowledged, Mercer-ZEUS," Legion droned as it found a high point and lined up a shot, while Grunt just roared and began firing at it wildly with his shotgun.

Alex vaulted over the barricade preventing normal combatants from leaving the premises, and sprinted for all he was worth towards the exposed Maw. It had been a long time since he'd been able to run full-out like this, and the distance separating him from his target evaporated like water. He was glad Shepard wasn't here to see this; she would be screaming at him to do something stupid like _Stop!_ or _Get back here you psychotic idiot!_

But she _wasn't_ here, and Alex grinned as he pulled his armor over his skin and called the claws to his hands. Up close, the Maw was a lot bigger than it seemed from far away, but if Alex could take down Greene, he could take down a damn _worm_.

He swung around the Maw and leapt as high as he could, jamming his claws into the Maw's back for leverage as he climbed, gripping on and laughing wildly when it screeched and began to thrash around in an attempt to dislodge him. He stopped laughing when the Maw reared up and began to sink into the earth again, and he widened his eyes.

_Shit!_

He slammed his arm into the Maw up to the elbow and called his shield with his other hand, holding it tight to his body as he sandwiched himself between the biomass spiked shield and the Maw, immediately feeling the earth slam into him. Being dragged through the hard rock and soil was not fun, and he grew more and more irritated the longer the Maw traveled underground. Finally it breached the surface again, screeching, and Alex pried his arm loose, grimacing at the green sludge covering his armor, and began to climb again. He shifted his shield into a blade and sprinted up the side of the Maw towards its head, leaping into the air and slamming back into the side of the Maw's head like a scythe, making it scream in pain as it thrashed about wildly. He clung to one of the mandibles with his claws and began hacking away at it with his blade, grinning madly beneath his helmet.

A sniper round slammed into the thing's blue tongue inches from his head, and Alex took a moment to appreciate Legion's accuracy before the Maw shrieked again and began to dive for the earth again. Alex looked at the approaching ground and grimaced.

_Not so fast, bird-bait._ Alex grabbed the thing's flailing tongue and heaved, letting the full weight of his biomass drag the Maw sharply to the left, and it screamed in surprise as instead of burrowing into the earth its head slammed into the rock at an odd angle, brought to earth by the not-inconsiderable weight of the Blacklight virus. While the Maw thrashed and bucked in an attempt to dislodge the immovable object latched onto the side of its head, Alex ducked a spray of acid that melted the stone behind him and he glared irritably at the Maw.

"Oh just die already," Alex growled, shifting his blade into a spike and impaling the blue tongue, letting his tendrils wrap around it before releasing the Maw with a smirk. Freed, the Maw reared again and dove underground, and Alex just stood there, waiting. Listening.

And then he heard it. Felt it. The earth all but _buckled_ beneath the bio-bomb explosion as the Maw exploded out of the ground, screaming through a shredded face, most of its head blown away as it collapsed, twitching. Alex strolled towards the Maw's head and kicked it for good measure. He glanced towards the arena—they were a good distance away now thanks to the Maw's energetic romp underground—before looking at the dying Maw.

He was not likely to get a chance like this again anytime soon. He set his clawed hand on the Maw's head and let his tendrils spread across as much of the massive thresher maw as he could before plunging them in, feeling the Maw buck one more time in lingering pain as it stubbornly clung to life before falling still. There was too much of the Maw still submerged to consume all of it—not to mention if he consumed the entire Maw he'd be too heavy to safely ride in the shuttle back to the Normandy—but there was enough above ground to be worth his time.

He crushed the upper half of the Maw with his tentacles and dragged what he could salvage into himself, closing his eyes as he felt the dim flicker of animalistic memories flash through his eyes. He felt his right arm shiver and crawl with biomass, and when he looked down at it his arm had shifted. He had three fingers on that arm now, and it was red and spiked with biomass. Experimentally he reached for the remains of the Maw and to his surprise, long tendrils shot out and wrapped around the half-eaten corpse. He heaved with all his might and the tendrils yanked, ripping the entire Maw from the ground as he hurled it several yards away, where it collapsed with a mighty crash.

Alex grinned, letting his arms shift back to normal as he dismissed his armored form. He could work with that. He turned on his heel and left the remains of the Maw in the dust as he headed back towards the arena, whistling a jaunty tune under his breath.

* * *

**A/N: **_Introducing the Tendrils power. For those of you that haven't played ME3 (I both pity and envy you), "Kalros" is the "mother from which all thresher maws spawn." _

_Legion! Alex _would _pick the geth as his babysitter. And you just know Alex would take down that maw on his own for the heck of it. If I was a better artist I'd be doodling pictures of him riding the thresher maw to the ground. *whimsical sigh*_

_**ALSO!** I've noticed quite a few reviews wondering if I'm including Heller in this story, or perhaps in the ME3 continuation of it (yes, here it is, confirmation that I will be continuing into ME3 once this is finished). Did any of you actually read that A/N I put at the top of Chapter 1? I'm pretty sure I said that I was disregarding the events of Prototype 2, and I'm only adopting the powers from it since it makes sense that Alex would learn them on his own, rather than having to consume them from Evolved like Heller does. It's not that I dislike Heller as a character, but he's just not as badass as Alex, in my opinion. There are other crossovers out there that deal with Heller. I suggest going to read them; they're actually quite good. Who Watches the Watchmen? by Blacklight14 is one such Heller-centric story, if that's your ball of wax. Hopefully the fact that I'm not bringing Heller into the story won't chase too many of you off. Maybe someday I'll write a spin-off with Heller as the main character, but not today. Hugs and kisses for everyone!  
_

_This is a crossover with Alex Mercer as the protagonist, not James Heller. If you didn't notice that, well... then I'm doing something incredibly wrong. ;)  
_


	32. Chapter 32

Alex huffed, rolling his shoulders as he vaulted back into the arena, almost immediately being clapped on the back by an enthusiastic Grunt, grinning widely.

"Ha! Knew you were a crazy bastard, Mercer. Taking down a full-grown Maw? If you were krogan, you would be legend."

Alex smirked. "Well, I _am_ pretty amazing." He glanced around until he spotted his favorite geth in the galaxy. "Legion, please tell me you recorded that."

Legion's flaps rose. "Affirmative, Mercer-ZEUS. All data pertaining to your unique abilities are being documented for further study."

Alex laughed aloud, rubbing his hands together. "That is _so_ going on the Extranet."

"Hmph. Impressive."

Alex paused and turned, raising a confused brow at Uvenk and his cronies, perched on a nearby pipe. "Impressive? Beating an AI at chess is impressive. I just rode a damn thresher maw. I'd say that's pretty badass."

"I was not talking to you, human," Uvenk growled, looking at Grunt. "The tank-bred is an adequate fighter. Perhaps this loophole could be exploited."

Alex frowned. "But… I just wrestled a Maw. And then I ate it."

"It would not be permitted to breed, of course. But having it in our clan would strengthen us."

Alex stepped forward, waving a hand in Uvenk's face. "Hello? Are you listening to me? Did I mention the part where I killed a thresher maw? By myself? Hello?"

Uvenk batted his hand aside irritably, looking back at Grunt. Alex snarled, bristling. _No one_ brushes him off. He stepped back beside Grunt and Legion, biomass reforming his arms with spikes of crimson. "What say you, tank-bred? Will you join Uv_augh!_"

Alex smirked, outstretched hand flinging tendrils at the ignorant krogan chieftain, sending him flying back into his krantt. The tendrils branched out like a demented spider web, grabbing onto walls and pillars and suspending the dozen or so krogan above the ground like flies, where they struggled uselessly like a turtle on its back.

Grunt laughed aloud, and Alex lowered his hand.

"Why don't you guys just… _hang tight_ for a minute," Alex smirked, dipping his head to hide his eyes behind his hood. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Grunt and I have a date with Wrex."

"Puny human!" Uvenk snarled, thrashing, "You are nothing without your tricks."

Alex raised a brow and cocked his head. "Aren't you the one I punched through a wall?" Uvenk hesitated, still snarling, and Alex sighed. "And I thought we'd agreed not to be stupid anymore today. Such a pity." He shook his head and turned his back on the suspended krogan, gesturing to Grunt and Legion. "Come on, before their idiocy becomes contagious."

* * *

Shepard sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as they walked. Mordin's work on the genophage was… _disturbing_, she supposed was the best word for it. But that cure data could prove invaluable, so she'd had Mordin save a copy before they'd destroyed the original. She only hoped Alex hadn't inadvertently started a war with the krogan somehow, or insulted someone's ancestor.

She'd given Legion very specific instructions on how to proceed. Talk to Wrex, get Grunt's medicine or whatever it was he needed, and return to the ship. Nice and easy.

As they approached the center of Tuchanka, where the varren pits were, she saw a large crowd of cheering krogan around what looked like a holo projection. Curious, she waved Garrus and Mordin back to the Normandy as she approached, shouldering her way through, only to stop dead.

Legion was standing at the center, the flashlight on his head glowing brightly as it projected a video onto a sheet of rock. Grunt was laughing along with the rest, and Alex was standing nearby with his arms folded, grin too wide for his face. Shepard turned to face the vid and felt herself pale.

Alex was _riding_ a _thresher maw_. And then he _dragged it to the ground_ and _consumed it_. She felt her mouth fall open and then turned to stare at Alex, who was smirking at her from beneath his hood. Where the _hell_ had he found a thresher maw, and why did he find it necessary to fight it?

"You'll catch flies that way, Shepard," Alex mused, suddenly right beside her, and she jumped in surprise.

"Alex, did you…"

"…kill a thresher maw? Yes. Yes I did."

She stared at him. Alex looked inordinately pleased with himself, and Shepard had to look back at the vid as it replayed again. He'd had Legion _videotape_ himself _wrestling a thresher maw_.

She began to seriously doubt Alex's sanity.

"I thought I told you not to start an incident," Shepard finally ground out, still wide-eyed.

"I didn't. It was all a part of Grunt's Rite of Passage." Alex slung an arm around her shoulders and sniffled affectionately, his voice wavering. "Our little krogan's all grown up!"

Shepard tensed. His little show of physical affection was unwanted and unappreciated, and she peeled his arm off of her shoulders and stepped away for good measure. Alex furrowed his brow, looking honestly confused.

He looked at himself, spreading his arms. "What? Do I smell?"

Shepard blinked. "Since when have you been so touchy-feely?"

Alex hesitated, lowering his arms, and then he shrugged. "Dunno. Hey, Shepard, look!" he pointed at the screen, which showed a hazy image of a black figure dragging the thresher maw to the ground by the tongue. "This is my favorite part."

Shepard covered her eyes with her hand and took a steadying breath. "All right. Come on boys, back to the ship. We _do_ have a galaxy to save, you know."

Alex pouted as the krogan began to protest when Legion shut off the projection, stepping up to Shepard's side. But he grinned and shrugged, falling into step behind her when she began to head for the Normandy.

Halfway there, EDI's voice came over the com. "The slaying of the thresher maw during the Rite of Passage has garnered numerous breeding requests for Grunt. And four for Alex."

"Ha!" Grunt barked, and Alex's grin widened. He slid up beside Shepard, waggling his brows.

"You hear that, Shepard? Krogan females think I'm _desirable_."

Shepard raised a brow without looking at his smirking face. "I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing, Alex."

"Don't you dare ruin this for me, Shepard."

"I wouldn't _dream_ of it."

* * *

**A/N: **_Short filler-like chapter. Sorry for the delay and the length of this; I was out of town today, and I'll be out of town tomorrow. I'll try and put up a mega-super-awesome-ultimate update delux on Sunday to make up for it. _


	33. Chapter 33

Alex grinned as he ran his fingers lovingly over Legion's M-98 Widow. Shepard was eyeing him uneasily nearby, the sight of such a massive sniper rifle in the hands of the Blacklight virus could not possibly be very reassuring, as she slid closer hoping for a better look. The 39 kilogram anti-material rifle would snap the arm of any human attempting to shoot it thanks to the recoil, but Alex was no ordinary human.

"Isn't that Legion's gun?" Shepard finally asked, tearing her eyes from the beast of a rifle to stare at Alex accusingly.

Alex bristled. Did she think he'd _stolen_ it from Legion? "Yes. He said I could borrow it if I promised to demonstrate the full extent of my abilities for him. Apparently the geth are incredibly curious about me." Honestly Alex was a bit flattered that Legion had taken such an interest in him after the incident with the Maw. Shepard had managed to talk him out of letting that video get out on the Extranet, but he had kept a copy of it on a datapad so he could watch it later.

Shepard folded her arms. "Have you even ever used a sniper rifle?"

Alex paused in his survey of the weapon to slowly turn ice-blue eyes up on the woman who had dared question his skill. Shepard tensed beneath his stare, but otherwise remained unaffected. _Damn, either I'm losing my touch or Shepard is a hard-ass._ "Have I ever… Shepard. Think about who you're _talking_ to. I don't need to have fired one before to know how to use it."

She was obviously unimpressed. Alex was willing to admit that Shepard was handy with that M-97 Viper she'd found in the Dantius towers, and that the majority of headshots that made his prey explode tended to come from her. But Alex was a walking one-man army, and he had enough military personnel in his collection to make the challenge in her eyes impossible to ignore.

Alex sighed in mock exasperation, standing from his crouch and hefting the Widow. It wasn't heavy by any stretch of the imagination, but even Legion took a little effort to get the thing into position.

"All right, Shepard. I'll bite. What do you want me to do? Shoot an apple off your head? Hit a fly at a mile blindfolded?"

Shepard pursed her lips thoughtfully, and Alex bit back a smirk at the expression. That was her _Thinking Face_, and it made her look like a fish. He'd never tell her that, though, because then she might stop doing it and he'd lose that little bit of humor in his rather uneventful life.

"No," she finally decided, almost smugly, "I don't need to prove myself to you. I've been using a sniper rifle since my Academy days, and not even your memories can substitute practical application."

Alex refrained from informing her that his 'memories' were the reason no one had managed to kill or capture him yet, practical application be damned. He lowered the rifle and cocked his head at her. She really thought she was a better shot than him.

How adorably amusing.

"Did you come down here for a reason _other_ than to insult my marksmanship skills, Shepard?"

She nodded, becoming serious again. "We're en route to Aeia to respond to a distress signal from the MSV Hugo Gernsback. We have reason to believe Jacob's father may be stranded on the planet."

"Ah, I see. Another one of our field trips solving a personal crisis."

Shepard ignored him. "I wanted to see if you'd be interested in taking Garrus' place in the squad. He has some calibrating to do."

Alex smirked. Garrus _always_ had some calibrating to do. Didn't stop Alex from bugging him when he was working, though. "Sure. Beats sitting here playing mechanic." He set the Widow back down and crouched again. "Since I'm already in the shuttle bay, I'll just… go back to what I was doing before being so rudely interrupted."

Shepard sighed. "And what _are_ you doing, exactly?"

"Working out the schematics for the Widow, of course. Legion didn't _give _me the gun; I'll have to make my own out of spare parts eventually, and I'd rather not have to start blind."

She shook her head. "Just be ready in an hour. This ship crashed a decade ago; who knows what we'll find down there."

"If it's anything like our other adventures, you can probably assume feral tribe members and hostile mechs." Alex shrugged, going back to meticulously taking apart the M-98. "Or maybe they'll be friendly for a change and we'll all have a nice cup of tea."

"Just be ready, Alex."

Alex grinned beneath his hood at the Widow Anti-Material Rifle. "I'm always ready, Commander."

* * *

To say Shepard did not like the idea of Alex carrying around a sniper rifle that could punch through a tank was an understatement. She'd seen him fiddling around with the ammo in the shuttle on the way down, fingers glowing a faint purple. Shepard had seen biotics do similar things to their weapons before; Warp Ammo was incredibly useful against shields, and since shields were one of the things that could dampen a rifle like the Widow's high pay yield, it made sense that he would upgrade.

But Alex wasn't a natural biotic, and the ammo display was _purple_, and she wasn't all that eager to find out what exactly he had just done to an already overpowered weapon. As they stepped out of the shuttle and into a veritable rainforest, Shepard took one look at the wreckage of the Hugo Gernsback and was grateful she'd brought along her viral chainsaw. This whole situation just oozed suspicion, and it was always nice to be able to just point Alex at their enemies and give him a push.

Shepard paused as Alex walked by her, doing a double take. "Alex, where's your armor?"

Alex glanced over his shoulder at her, face hidden by the shadows of that damn hood. "Shepard, the odds of us running into anything that would require me to be wearing armor are very low. Besides, it's not flexible enough to allow for the Widow's recoil."

Shepard opened her mouth to protest when she thought better of it. Alex seemed pretty impossible to take down, even without his armor. She wasn't worried for his safety so much as what any survivors would think about a man in a hoodie toting a rifle not designed for humans.

She shook her head and followed after him, Jacob at her heels.

* * *

Alex didn't have to listen to the distress beacon's hologram to know that something was very wrong here. The ship was all but obliterated, and while Shepard and Jacob were poking around in there looking for information, Alex was 'standing guard' and 'watching out for dangerous aboriginals.' In reality he was keeping an eye on the head of brown hair that kept peeking at him from over some crates in the distance. He kept the Widow at rest in his hands, trying his best to look non-threatening, and then caught himself and sighed.

He couldn't manage to look non-threatening if he wore the skin of a five year old girl and put his hair in pigtails. The mental image that conjured made him shudder, and he shook it off as he looked back at the worried eyes staring at him. He knew if he stepped towards her—he was pretty sure it was a female—that she'd bolt like a skittish deer and he'd be forced to either chase her down or shoot her in the back.

Fortunately, the woman seemed to come to the conclusion that the strange hooded man with the massive sniper rifle wasn't about to run over and eat her, _yet_, and she stood and hurried towards him, looking both relieved and nervous all at once.

Alex watched her approach, not blinking, as she came to a halt a few paces away, wringing her hands and looking around as if she thought they were being watched.

"You came?" she asked, sounding potentially way too excited for Alex's lingering sanity. He was briefly reminded of Yeoman Chambers. "From the sky?" Where else would they have come from? The _ground?_ "The leader said someone would come! He delayed for so long, but he still has power!"

Alex slowly raised a brow as the young woman began to look around, clenching and unclenching her hands. He got the distinct impression that having a conversation was not something she had done in a very long time.

"Some have lost faith," she confided, distastefully, then she turned quickly. "The hunters. They will have seen your star. They will not let you help him."

The term _hunters_ had very negative connotations for the Blacklight virus. And while he seriously doubted the planet was infested with Greene's overgrown gorilla-dogs, he still tensed, grip tightening on the Widow's trigger.

"All right, let's all just take a step back and start speaking at a normal speed, shall we? My name is Alex," he introduced politely, bowing a little. It never hurt to make a good first impression when dealing with rabid females. "Who might you be? Were you on the Gernsback?"

"I… can't think," she admitted, grimacing as she looked down in obvious embarrassment. Alex reassessed his theory on them being idiot tribal members. That hologram had talked about neural decay. He made a mental note not to chew on any leaves. "The leader thinks for us and we serve… so we can go home. But some want to fight him. They were cast out."

_The leader thinks for us and we serve._ Alex bristled. That sounded way too close to a Hive mind for his comfort. Alex flicked his eyes over the distraught woman's shoulder as a male figure slid into cover, an assault rifle in his hands. Alex slowly pushed the still-talking woman aside with the barrel of the Widow as he lined up a shot.

"He exiled them," she continued, seemingly not noticing that Alex wasn't really paying her any attention anymore, "so they hunt his machines—" _I knew there'd be mechs. _"—and those who help him. They don't believe rescue would come."

The male stood from cover, aiming his rifle at the nervous woman, and Alex pulled the trigger. Once. It sounded like a cannon had just gone off, and the kickback was enough to send him back a step as the round tore through the air and impacted the man's head. Only, and Alex grimaced, they didn't seem to have shields… and he'd modified his ammo to punch through shields… so really the man's head didn't _explode_ so much as _cease to exist_. The headless body crumpled to the ground and Alex grabbed the woman's arm as gently as he could and pulled her behind some cover.

Hunters, he'd found, even human ones, were never alone for long.

And he was right. Rounds pinged off their cover while the woman cowered next to him behind the block. Alex waited for a lull in the fire before standing and picking off the exposed hunters without bothering to aim, each of them missing a rather vital body part when he finished. When everything was silent, he lowered the Widow and smirked. Well, the best kind of kill was overkill after all.

He looked down at the still cowering woman. "They're dead now," he told her rather pointlessly. If she had even a lick of common sense left, she would have made the connection between the Widow's firing and the men's screaming. "You can stop hiding."

She just stared at him with wide brown eyes, as if looking at a god, and he sighed again.

Humans.

Alex lifted his head as he saw Shepard and Jacob running for them, weapons ready. Shepard slowed to a stop as she saw a few of the dead hunters laying over the cover they'd died behind in various stages of death, turning to look at Alex questioningly.

"She," Alex gestured to the still-cowering woman by his feet, "has neural decay and warned me about men gunning to kill their 'leader.' And they," he pointed back at the dead hunters, "made the mistake of being called hunters."

Shepard sighed. "Why am I not surprised that you keeping watch somehow ended with a bunch of dead civilians?"

Alex grinned, adjusting his grip on the Widow. "Why, Shepard! I do believe you've learned something!"

Jacob made a noise from over by the headless hunter that had tested the Widow's ammo. "Hey Mercer, where'd this guy's head go?"

Alex shrugged. "Canada?"

* * *

**A/N: **_Ohohohoho I'm baaaaaaaacck. Here, have a grape and a cheese cube for waiting so patiently while I went to my cousin's graduation._


	34. Chapter 34

**Note:** _"Consuming Direct Control" broke 100,000 hits! 110,484 hits, to be precise. Holy goodness! *flails around in circles*_

* * *

If suspicion had a smell, it would smell like Acting Captain Ronald Taylor. Alex, so far, was not terribly convinced that the man was as innocent as Jacob seemed to hope he was. Terrified women babbling about _stars_ and _take us to the sky_, hunters with barely enough competence to hold a rifle, and now this.

A camp full of females standing around like terrified cattle. Alex growled low, flicking blue eyes over the subdued yet nervous faces of the women huddled in small groups. It was pretty obvious why the women were separated like this, although if Shepard or Jacob had figured it out yet was debatable. Alex drummed agitated fingers on the grip of the Widow, wishing the captain would miraculously appear in his line of sight so he could put a vaporizing round through the bastard's head.

It wasn't so much the idea of one human taking advantage of others that bothered him. Alex had seen things that would make lesser men wet themselves, and been the cause of enough catastrophes that he was all but immune to anything that would cause disgust in another person, but this was a line in the sand that you simply _did not cross_. Not even Alex, at his _worst_, would stoop this low.

As far as he was concerned, Ronald Taylor was no better than Blackwatch, and deserved nothing less than immediate and indiscriminate execution. He hummed as he looked over to where Jacob was frightening a group of women with his face and where Shepard was trying—and failing—to reassure them.

He saw a few of the women slowly creeping towards him out of the corner of his eye, but gave no outward sign that he'd noticed them. They paused a few steps away, fidgeting and murmuring, before one of them approached and tugged on his sleeve.

"Are you here to take us back to the sky?" she asked quietly, as if afraid she'd be overheard by someone unsavory. Alex turned and glanced down into wide blue eyes and he tensed.

She could have been Dana's twin for all the similarities he could spot on the surface. Rage spiked through him, a protectiveness that he'd thought long dead. He looked around and saw many of the other women looking at him now, as if waiting hopefully for his response. He frowned.

Alex was not used to playing hero. More often than not he was the one that _caused_ problems, not fixed them. But this was something he could do. This was something Dana would have wanted him to do. And, if he was honest with himself, the idea of spearing _Acting Captain Ronald Taylor_ through the stomach and ripping him apart was immensely appealing.

He looked down at the blue-eyed woman and managed a small smile, the first he'd made in almost one hundred and fifty years. "Yes. I'm here to take you back to the sky." _And I will slaughter the man who took it from you._

* * *

Shepard glanced up and did a quick double-take. Alex was all but swarmed with women, which was rather humorous, only they didn't look quite as star-crossed as she had been expecting. Several of them looked rather emotional, and one of them was even holding onto his sleeve as if she'd float away if she let him go. And, even more incredibly, he didn't look bothered by having so many humans that close to him.

From what she knew about Alex, he _hated_ crowds. He hated to be touched, spoken to, breathed on, _interacted with_. And there he was in the middle of a herd of frightened women and looking entirely unaffected. He looked up and met her eye, and for a single heartbeat he looked _human_, and then the warmth bled from his expression and his eyes hardened again, and he was the Blacklight virus surrounded by humans and looking agitated and twitchy.

With excruciating care, she watched him extricate himself from the swarm of women, the blue-eyed one still hanging onto his sleeve, and he stalked towards the far end of the compound with his fan club following at his heels. Shepard motioned for Jacob to follow her as she went after him; she did not intend to let Alex wander off on his own, taking the majority of the female crewmembers with him.

As she got closer, she could hear him speaking to them.

"Look, you have to stay here," he growled, pointing back at the camp. "You have to wait here for our star. If you leave, it can't take you back to the sky."

The women shrunk back and began to wander away, looking at him over their shoulders. The one hanging on his sleeve didn't budge, and Alex seemed to deflate when he looked at her.

"Go on," he urged her, motioning towards the others, "go wait for the star." When she still didn't move, Alex bristled and forcibly removed her hand from his arm and gave her a little push towards the rest of the women. "_Go_."

The woman frowned but joined the rest, and Alex sighed in relief. Shepard smirked and was about to comment when Alex suddenly turned and kept walking, vaulting the obstruction barring their way as if it wasn't there, and Shepard blinked. She scanned the wall and saw a downed mech near the base. She could rig that to blow, but it would take a few seconds that she just didn't have.

_Well,_ Shepard grimaced, _maybe he won't do anything _too_ rash._

* * *

Alex was growing frustrated. There seemed to be an endless number of 'hunters,' and while they posed absolutely no challenge to him they were slowing him down and keeping him from his target. He switched to thermal vision and leveled the Widow at a blur of orange hiding behind a crate. After a dozen or so shots, he'd learned how to manage the kickback without actually having to _kick back_ a step, but it was still jarring. The Widow blew through the crate as if it simply wasn't there and sent the orange blur flying through the air with a scream.

Alex snarled and glared at one of the frightened hunters trying to shoot him as he jammed a new heat sink into the Widow. The sniper rifle's only downside was its inability to hold more than one ammo clip at a time. He much preferred the visceral feeling of closing with his prey and bloodying his claws, but he supposed using a gun had its place as well.

Once the pesky hunter's torso vanished to parts unknown, Alex turned his orange-tinted eyes to look for survivors. Of which there were none, of course. Alex Mercer did not leave survivors.

He could hear Shepard and Jacob catching up—_just follow the corpses, Shepard_—so he picked up the pace. He was not about to let Shepard pull some kind of 'he deserves a fair trial' crap and put him in jail. Ronald Taylor was barely worth the effort it would take to kill him, but death was what he deserved and he would receive nothing less.

For once, Alex found himself wishing the Justicar was here. He was reasonably certain the Code agreed with him on this particular issue, and Shepard seemed to respect the asari more than anyone else on the ship, himself included. A mech was stupid enough to try and get in his way, and it was too close to use the Widow as it was meant to be used, so instead he slammed the Widow's grip into the mech's head and it promptly exploded.

The explosion did little to lighten his mood.

Finally he found the end of the path and a man with his back to him. Alex slowed to a walk and gently set the Widow down on some crates. He wouldn't need it for what he had in mind, and he didn't want to get it scratched up.

The man, who could only be Ronald Taylor, turned with an expression of exaggerated relief once he noticed Alex approaching. "You're here—" Whatever else he had planned to say was cut off in a choke when Alex took him by the throat, letting his other arm reform into a blade.

Alex said nothing. He wasn't worth the words or the thought behind them. He pressed the tip of his blade to the man's ribcage, cocking his head as Taylor clawed at the hand holding him several inches off the ground. He didn't _look_ like a man that would play harem with a camp full of passive females. He didn't seem all that impressive, either. Perhaps with his 'hunters' at his back and the females at his feet he could play god, but here, suspended off the ground by the personification of the Blacklight virus, he was just another human staring death in the face.

Or not really his _face_, as his eyes seemed to be alternating between the blade pressing into his abdomen and over his left shoulder. Alex tensed and prepared to run him through when a voice snapped at him from the entrance.

"Alex! Stand down!"

That was Shepard, and Alex just growled back at her. Every instinct in him screamed to kill the human, to amputate the infected limb so the body could grow healthy again, to cull the weak. He didn't even really care that the man was a monster at this point. He just knew he had prey in his grip and someone was trying to stop him.

"_Stand down,_" she repeated, much closer this time, in that Commander Voice she used on the rest of the crew.

Alex had consumed enough soldiers for that voice to have a noticeable effect on his ability to kill the man in his grip, but he damn sure fought it with everything he had. He _wanted_ to kill the man. He _needed_ to. He was dangerous; he had taken advantage of those women. Any of them could have been Dana, could have been Kasumi, Tali, Shepard, hell even the Cerberus Bitch. Killing him would be better for everyone. He was a threat, and he needed to be removed.

'_She was a threat to the galaxy, Beast. I… I ended her for the good of the galaxy.'_

Alex paused, tensing further as he felt Shepard's hand on his shoulder. There she was, putting herself in harm's way again just to calm him down.

"Alex," she said again, quieter. "He deserves it, but this _isn't_ how we do things. We _don't kill_ unarmed prisoners."

He refocused on the man in his grip, lowering him the ground so he could breathe but not releasing him or moving his blade. Alex had no qualms about killing unarmed prisoners; he'd slaughtered civilians by the thousands back in Manhattan when they'd gotten in his way.

"Let him go, Alex," Shepard went on when it became obvious Alex had no intention of doing so. "He's not worth it."

Alex growled, bristling and flicking cold eyes at her over his shoulder. "Would you think so if _you_ were one of them?"

Shepard went rigid, frowning. "He'll face justice, Alex. For every year here, he'll spend ten behind bars."

"Would you?" he repeated, voice hard.

"I _wasn't_ one of them, Alex," she bit back. "We could stand here and discuss 'what if's until the Reapers come, but that won't help anything. It won't turn back time, it won't make anything better, and it sure as hell won't help those women back at camp. Now let him go and step back. That's an _order._"

Alex tightened his grip briefly as he glared at nothing. If he killed the man, Shepard would be pissed and might kick him off the ship. And without Shepard and the Normandy, what would he do with himself? Go back to the Blue Suns? Sit on a roof for the next hundred years and just wait for something interesting to happen?

Was he really willing to damn himself to another two centuries of _nothing_ just to kill some human?

"No," he said aloud, almost to himself, as he pried his fingers from the man's throat and stepped back, letting his blade shift back into an arm. "He's not worth it." Alex frowned and pulled his hood lower over his eyes and backed up until he had the Widow back in his grip. He raised his head and met Shepard's eye, and the ice in her gaze was almost impressive. Alex returned the glare and saw Taylor struggle back to his feet, obviously about to whine to Shepard about keeping control of her crew.

"That'll be all, Mercer," Shepard told him shortly.

Alex tightened his grip on the Widow, just shy of denting the grip. His voice was level when he spoke, betraying nothing. "Commander."

* * *

Shepard could barely breathe as she stared at herself in her cabin's mirror. She had almost lost control of him today. She had seen it as easily as she could see her own face right now. Alex had been one breath away from killing Jacob's father without so much as a hint of remorse. Sure, if she had the option to just ignore the laws and the justice system, she would have put a bullet through the man's head herself. But there were _rules_; you couldn't just go around murdering people, no matter how much they deserved it.

Plus the man's son had been _right there_… although Jacob looked like he agreed with Alex more than her as to Ronald's fate.

She lowered her head and braced herself on the sink. Who was she kidding? She had absolutely no control over Alex, and that had become painfully clear to her down on Aeia. What if he chose not to stop next time? What if he snapped at one of the crew, and she wasn't able to make him stand down? He could kill Miranda—it was no secret the two didn't get along—or even Samara, and there would be nothing she could do to stop him.

Until then she'd been giving him the benefit of the doubt. _Surely_ he wasn't a monster like Miranda claimed. _Surely_ when he said he wasn't human, he was just exaggerating. There _had_ to be some humanity in there somewhere, some remnant of a previous life.

And his voice. He hadn't spoken a word to her since that single _Commander_ that had made her blood turn to ice and every nightmare involving monsters and claws that she'd ever had as a child surge to the forefront. She looked back at her reflection. She seemed to have aged more in this past month or so than she had in the past ten _years_.

"Shepard," EDI's smooth voice chimed in, "Alex is requesting permission to enter."

_No,_ Shepard almost said aloud. _Permission not granted_. "Let him in, EDI."

As always, she could feel when he stepped inside even if she couldn't hear him. She did not turn to face him, giving him her back. If he wanted to kill her, he would do so. There was no point trying to talk him out of it.

"I respect your right to make dumb-ass decisions, Commander."

Shepard looked up and met his eye in the mirror. He didn't seem at all hostile, and his voice wasn't angry or tense like she'd thought it might be. Damn but the man went through emotions like a salarian.

"And I will continue to do so, so long as you respect my right to make mine." Alex put his hands in his pockets, for once staying out of her personal space. "There's always another way, Shepard, and I forgot that. I hope this won't affect your ability to get shit done in a timely manner." A smirk pulled at his lip. "I'd hate for the Collectors to win because our Commander was sulking in her bathroom."

Shepard couldn't help but smile a bit at that. That _was_ what she was doing, wasn't it? Sulking.

Alex hesitated, looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Shepard turned around to face him directly. It was so rare to see him so discomfited that she planned to see every second of it. Alex coughed into his fist awkwardly and looked at everything but her. "Garrus and Joker threatened to pump me full of cryo rounds and force-feed me a gallon of Ryncol if I didn't come up here and apologize, so…" he coughed again, "…sorry. For being an ass. And for, you know, almost killing a guy."

Shepard sighed. "I wish I had recorded that. It's not every day Alex Mercer apologizes, you know."

Alex scowled, and she smirked at him. "Yeah well. Don't let it get around. I have a reputation to uphold, after all."

Shepard folded her arms. "Why, Alex, if I didn't know better I'd say you were _embarrassed._"

Alex glared at her, snarling, and at any other time of day Shepard would have been nervous. But… if he'd wanted to kill her, he would have. There was nothing she could do about it, so there wasn't much point fretting over it.

"Good thing you _do_ know better, then," Alex muttered, stalking back to the door. He paused at the entrance, glancing back at her. "If you tell anyone I said I was sorry, I will rip off your head and wear it like a damn _hat_."

Shepard just smiled benignly at him as he stormed out the door and into the elevator. She pulled up her omni-tool and sent a quick message to Tali.

'_You will NEVER believe what Alex just did.'_

* * *

**A/N: **_So I'm not entirely sure where that drama came from. I sat down to write my normal humorous chapter, and this came out instead. *glares at hands* Stupid fingers. Jacob's loyalty mission always pissed me off. I mean the man practically has a harem of unwilling, mentally unstable females, and the only options the game gives us are to either send him to jail (paragon option my ass), leave him to the hunters (If I didn't make all my Shepards pure paragons I'd pick this one) or give the man a gun to off himself. Where's the option to push him over that railing or feed him to Grunt? __  
_

_So I wrote this, and I thought to myself "Elizabeth, there is no way I am allowing you to make this chapter end all dramatic. Fix it. Now." So sorry about that! Have some delicious fresh bread to go with the grapes and cheese I gave you yesterday.  
_


	35. Chapter 35

_**Note: **Expect absolutely nothing serious from this chapter._

* * *

'_I think I'm going soft. Shepard told me to stand down the other day, to stop me from killing this bastard of a man—he had a _harem_ of women; defenseless, mentally stunted women, to be accurate—and I _did_. I stood down. The hell is wrong with me?'_

Alex leaned one elbow on the table as he sighed, staring morosely at the terminal in front of him. "This is ridiculous," he finally said aloud, glaring at EDI's podium, where the blue ball obediently flared to life. "Why am I writing this again?"

"I believe your exact words were," and here EDI's voice switched to a literal recording of what he'd said, "_I should start writing this shit down, because otherwise no one is going to believe it._"

"I was being _sarcastic_," Alex protested. "This is like…" he floundered for the proper word, gesturing wildly at the innocent computer terminal, "…like keeping a damn _diary_. What am I, a six year old _girl?_"

"I do not believe six year old females would write about potentially murdering Ronald Taylor in their diaries, Alex."

Alex sighed, but smirked regardless, shaking his head. "It's still ridiculous. What's to stop someone from just walking in and reading this? What about Cerberus? Don't they have bugs planted up everyone's ass?"

"If you are not going to record your experiences for posterity, Alex, then cease complaining and please power down the terminal."

Alex glared at the blue ball, drumming his fingers on the desk. Sometimes he wished EDI had a face so he could smack it. He turned back to the screen and punched the next few words with a bit more force than necessary.

'_EDI is a bitch.'_

"I saw that, Alex."

"Yeah? Good." Alex grumbled, closing the file and leaning back, frowning. "EDI, I'm bored."

"What do you expect me to do to resolve the situation, Alex? Shall I play a classical sonata?"

Alex ignored her. EDI was getting rather snippy lately. Were all unshackled AI like this? _No wonder they were outlawed. _"When's Shepard going to get back?"

"Shepard and Mr. Krios are currently occupied, Alex. I cannot predict the future."

Alex stood and headed for the elevator, hands in his pockets. "Is she punishing me for that stunt on Aeia or something? She _knows_ I can't sit still." He stopped as he waited for the doors to open and he snarled. "I _apologized_, didn't I? Wasn't that, I don't know, _enough?_ It's not like I attacked her or anything."

"I believe Shepard accepted your apology, Alex. Beyond that, I am unsure."

Alex sighed and stepped into the elevator, trying to ignore the memories attempting to resurface as he glared at the wall. "And how would you know that, EDI? You spying on us?"

"I am always watching, Alex." A pause. "The Commander sent a message to Tali'Zorah shortly after you returned to your room. From the context, I gathered that she had deemed your apology acceptable."

Alex went rigid, not even noticing when the doors swung open. "She _what?_" When EDI began to repeat the statement, he held up a hand to stop her. Shepard had _told_ someone? "Son of a bitch," he muttered to himself, watching as the doors clicked shut again and the elevator idled in place. "How many regulations would I be breaking if I murdered Commander Shepard and wore her face like a hat?"

"1,364."

Alex cursed, bracing one hand on the wall as he stared at his feet. Did she just think he wouldn't find out? That he wouldn't _know?_ He had specifically told her not to tell anyone that he'd apologized, and what did she do? She sent a _message_ to _the quarian_ of all people.

_Well,_ he mused, _at least it wasn't the Bitch. _Then he frowned. It might have been better if it _was_ the Bitch. At least then he'd have a good excuse to kill the woman.

Alex hesitated, a smile pulling at his face. "EDI," he began cordially, "we're docked at the Citadel, right?"

"Affirmative, Alex."

"How much trouble would I get in for taking some unscheduled shore leave?"

"You are not a member of the Systems Alliance or Cerberus, or even a registered crewmember of this ship. The worst legally applicable punishment would be a heavy fine."

Alex grinned, straightening and tapping the button for the CIC deck. "Say, EDI," he asked as he strolled toward the airlock. "Where can I buy a hamster?"

* * *

Shepard stepped onto the Normandy with a smile on her face. Thane and his son were making amends, and she'd only had to fire a single bullet as a warning shot. It was good she'd decided not to take Alex; he would have found a way to turn an otherwise peaceful mission into a slaughter. She paused at the helm, staring at where Alex was lounging in a chair he must have dragged down from the mess hall, propping his feet on EDI's terminal. There was a chessboard floating nearby, but she still narrowed her eyes.

Neither Joker nor Alex looked over at her, and they seemed _far_ too innocent for her liking. She shook her head and headed for the elevator. She wanted to get out of this armor and into the shower ASAP. Dealing with politics, even briefly, always left her feeling incredibly dirty.

* * *

Alex smirked as Joker stared at Shepard's retreating back.

"You are going to be in _so_ much trouble."

"Worth it."

* * *

Shepard rolled her shoulders as she stepped out of the elevator, pausing in front of her door to pull down the note taped there.

I KNOW.

She frowned at the two words scrawled in handwriting that oddly enough reminded her of a doctor's scrawl. There was something oddly ominous about them, although they seemed innocent enough. She turned it over a few times, but nothing else was written on the sheet. With a shrug, she tapped the center of her door to open it and froze in place, eyes the size of dinner plates.

Her room was… _fuzzy_, for lack of a better word. And _moving_. Oh, and it was _looking at her_.

A thousand eyes turned to stare at her as she entered, and Shepard went rigid in surprise. Was this… no. No this couldn't possibly be right. They were on her bed, covering the floor, clambering on top of her desk and knocking things off, running around on the couch… no.

Her room was _not_ full of hamsters.

"Mr. Nibbles?" she asked dumbly.

She looked down at the innocent piece of paper in her hands. I KNOW.

_Mercer._ She crumpled the note in her hand, still staring wide-eyed at the mass of rodents occupying her room. How… why… _when?_ An uneasy laugh bubbled from her and she rubbed her eyes, hoping they would all go away and that this was just a bad dream.

A very, very strange dream.

Well. Shepard cleared her throat awkwardly. She supposed she deserved this, at least a little bit.

She took a tentative step back, hoping maybe she could close the door and pretend the problem would just go away.

And then they surged towards her in a tidal wave of brown fur and she _shrieked_.

* * *

**A/N: **_*snicker* I had this idea this morning of a room full of hamsters, and it just... happened. I'm so sorry. In Alex's defense, he DID owe her a hamster. He just... chose to repay it a hundredfold. How did he get those hamsters into her cabin, you ask? Space magic, of course.__  
_

_Revenge is a dish best served furry.  
_

_Now I'm off to go find some Dippin' Dots. Mmmm...  
_


	36. Chapter 36

Alex sighed as he leaned against the wall beside Shepard's door. She was currently hyperventilating on the floor by the elevator, arms around her knees as she stared wide-eyed at her door. He cocked his head towards her room as he heard the distinctive scrabbling of over a hundred small rodents, and then the sound of something important falling over and breaking.

He supposed she'd suffered enough for her trespass, so he took a step forward and crouched in front of her.

"Would you like me to remove the hamsters?" he asked in the most polite voice possible. She fixed wide eyes on him and nodded jerkily.

Alex sighed again and straightened, tapping open the door and stepping inside while it snicked shut behind him. He folded his arms as he looked around, eyeing Mr. Nibbles' old cage—which was, ironically, the only place in her room that did _not_ have a hamster in it—before grabbing two of the rodents at random and dropping them in.

The rest, however…

Alex grinned and cracked his knuckles.

* * *

Shepard blinked slowly before pushing herself to her feet. She never would have guessed having so many hamsters rush at you like that would be so… so _traumatizing_. She couldn't find it in her to be angry with Alex, though. She _had_ wronged him, even if he overreacted just a tad.

And where had he found that many hamsters on such short notice? As she got her breathing back under control she hesitated, looking at the eerily silent door. What did he intend to _do_ with all of them? She heard something that sounded like a muffled squeak and then the door opened. Shepard shrank back instinctively, but there was no surge of rodents or chorus of squealing.

She peered around him and widened her eyes at the empty—if rather disheveled—room. She leaned back and stared at Alex, who had his hands in his pockets and his head down as if trying to avoid her gaze. She highly doubted he felt any sort of regret for his little prank, but it was nice to pretend he did.

"That was fast," Shepard commented, and Alex tilted his head up to look at her, expression inscrutable. _Damn._ Was he still pissed? That could cause problems. "What did you do with them?"

Alex just smirked at her, raising a single brow as he stepped around her and into the elevator. He tilted his head as the doors began to close and Shepard kept staring at him.

His smirk widened into a shark-like grin. "I recycled them."

And the doors slid shut. Shepard blinked once, and then turned back to her room. She really should have known better than to ask that. She _really_ should. With a heavy sigh, she stepped into the hamster-free room and looked around.

It was going to take _hours_ to clean this mess. A small squeak made her jump and whirl, only to be greeted with two happily _not_ recycled hamsters flailing around in Mr. Nibbles' old cage. Shepard relaxed and watched as the newly christened Nibbles Jr. and Ms. Scuttles poked their heads out of the little cube and stared at her before retreating.

Then she paused. Alex had… saved some hamsters for her? She looked back at the closed door and furrowed her brow. She sat on a relatively clean portion of the couch and shook her head.

She would never understand that man.

* * *

Alex glared at the Widow sitting innocently on the workbench, and then at the incomplete version he was making for himself. He drummed his fingers on the table and sighed, reaching beneath his hood to scratch his head. It didn't help that he had to recreate a weapon not designed for humans out of _human_ gun parts, or that Garrus had materialized in the cargo bay and was watching him work.

Why people enjoyed watching him do things was beyond him. He knew the turian had a thing for sniper rifles, but it was monumentally more challenging to concentrate with Garrus' helpful suggestions going in one ear and out the other.

"Vakarian," Alex finally bit out, glaring over his shoulder at the nosy turian. "_Why_ are you down here, again?"

Garrus frowned—well, he did the turian equivalent of a frown, and only Alex's intimate knowledge of turian anatomy let him catch the expression at all. "I needed the distraction."

Alex knew that tone of voice very well. That was the voice of a man with revenge on his mind, but without the means to achieve it. "You know Shepard will take you where you need to go if you just ask her."

Garrus blinked, surprised, and then sighed. "I already did, back after that Collector attack on Horizon. She's just… had a lot on her mind since then."

Alex pushed the half-finished M-98 Widow II—he was still working on the name—away and swiveled in his seat to face the frustrated turian. Alex considered it. Out of the entire squadron, Garrus picked _him_ to take his mind off of whatever it was he'd asked Shepard to do? While not exactly _intelligent_ on Garrus' part, Alex supposed he could oblige him. After all, the weapon wasn't going to explode anytime soon and until Shepard got her cabin cleaned they weren't going anywhere.

"So what's got your armor in a twist, Vakarian? I know better than to assume that I was Option Number One on your List of Who to Bother Today."

"You were, actually," Garrus admitted, frowning again. "No offense, but out of everyone on the ship, you're the least likely to try and be the Voice of Reason and talk me out of it."

Alex wasn't sure what _it_ was, but he could guess. He could also guess that the reason Garrus wasn't up helping Shepard like he normally would be was because _she_ had tried to be the Voice of Reason. "None taken," Alex shrugged. "I'm probably the _last_ person that has the right to talk down about revenge."

Garrus' eyes widened in obvious surprise, and Alex just smirked. "How did you…"

_And he doesn't even bother denying it. _"Well I didn't before, but now I do," Alex grinned as obnoxiously as possible, enjoying Garrus' scowl. "I heard it in your voice," Alex admitted. "Anyone who's ever taken things into their own hands would have." Alex waved the topic away like batting a fly. "You didn't come down here to talk about this."

"No," Garrus agreed. "But my entire squad is dead except for him. I intend to find him, and correct that."

Alex smirked, shaking his head. "And Shepard probably gave you her Holier-Than-Thou speech about _justice_ and _due process of law_, right?"

Garrus' silence and irritated gaze was all the answer he needed.

"Let me give you some advice, turian," Alex leaned forward, arms on his knees. "There is no such thing as justice. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone. I was hunted through the streets of Manhattan for a crime I couldn't even remember committing, and while Blackwatch murdered and raped their way through New York Zero _I_ was the one trying to save the city. _I_ was the one who stopped Elizabeth Greene and broke the back of the Infection. _I_ was the one who stopped the military from nuking everything to hell. The only reward I got for any of it was a bullet through the head and an antivirus literally stabbed into my back. And the men who did it all to me?" Alex smiled slightly. "They would have walked away free. They might have even been given medals and commendations for exemplary service. They would never have faced justice for their actions. So," and here he shrugged, "I took matters into my own hands. I hunted them all down, and I slaughtered them, ripped them apart, consumed them for their memories and used them to track down the rest. But you know the best part?"

Garrus shook his head.

"It didn't change a damn thing. More Blackwatch idiots rose in their place like phoenixes from the ashes, and they kept chasing me for the next hundred and fifty years until I finally went off-world and settled at Shanxi. It doesn't matter how many humans I kill, how many men women and children fall to my claws or my blade. There will _always_ be more, and they will _never_ stop hunting me. I don't believe in justice. Never have, never will." Alex shook his head. "_Vengeance_ I believe in. So never let someone pretend they're better than you just because you had the balls to do what the _justice system_ was too weak-minded to. Nothing will get done unless you do it yourself. You can't count on anyone but yourself, turian. Remember that, and maybe you'll live long enough to wish you hadn't."

Alex turned back and reached for the Widow II, focusing on the feel of metal beneath his fingers as Garrus sat quietly behind him. He shook his head with a wry grin.

_I must be getting long-winded in my old age. I don't think I've strung that many sentences together in quite a while. _

He heard Garrus stand and saw him heading for the elevator out of corner of his eye. "Going somewhere, Vakarian?"

Garrus paused and glanced back at him, looking determined. "Going to have that talk with Shepard again."

Alex grinned wide, lifting his head to look the turian in the eye. "Won't take no for an answer this time?"

Garrus' mandibles twitched into a turian smile. "No. Thanks, Mercer."

"Don't thank me. Just don't screw it up."

* * *

**A/N: **_Mercer Hamster Removal Service._

_Reduce. Reuse. Recycle.  
_


	37. Chapter 37

**Note: **_The chapter where I smush two stories together and expect it to make sense to anyone but me._

* * *

Shepard cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders as she stepped out of the taxi and onto the Citadel. She'd wanted to just bring Garrus—so she could have some more time to try and talk him out of this—but Alex had cornered her in the mess hall and actually _asked_ her if he could come. It had been so surprising that she had agreed, and he'd grinned and vanished before she could second-guess herself.

She glanced over to where Garrus and Ale—Shepard blinked. Alex wasn't… well, _Alex_. She'd seen him do that before, a _disguise_ as he called it, but it was still startling to suddenly have your crewmate transform into someone else entirely. He turned green eyes towards her to meet her incredulous stare and smirked.

Now _that_ was the Alex she knew.

"Like what you see, Shepard?" Alex smirked wider, raising a blond brow as Shepard shook her head to clear it. Even his voice was different.

"No," she deadpanned. "You say this Fade guy's in a warehouse, Garrus?"

Garrus checked something on his omni-tool as 'Alex' hefted what looked like a dark version of the Widow he'd used on Aeia. Shepard held up a hand to stall Garrus' reply and stared at the gun in Alex's hands.

"Alex, where did you get that rifle?"

"I made it," came his nonchalant reply, shrugging. A grin pulled at his lip. "I call it the _Black Widow_. Clever, eh?"

Shepard sighed and motioned for Garrus to go on. She'd wonder where Alex got the parts to recreate that later.

"C-Sec intel says Fade has contacts in the shipping warehouse on level 26. I've already set up an appointment."

Shepard nodded approvingly as they headed for the security checkpoint. She and Garrus stepped through without issue, but when Alex stepped up the light sputtered and flashed briefly before the turian officer glanced up from his screen.

"Welcome back to the Citadel, Mr. DeMoss. Been a while."

Alex smirked and nodded. "That it has."

Shepard looked at him oddly before shrugging and continuing on towards the Wards. "Care to explain, _Mr. DeMoss?_"

"Not particularly." Alex motioned for a large warehouse with two rather conspicuous bystanders arguing outside it. "That it?"

Garrus checked his omni-tool. "Looks like it. Come on; I can't wait to have a chat with Fade."

* * *

Alex sighed and shifted feet while Garrus and Shepard interrogated the little ball that turned out to _not_ be Fade. The volus was quite obviously not impressed when his krogan bodyguards had backed off at the first sign of possible violence, and honestly neither was Alex. What kind of krogan _doesn't_ want to shoot something?

Alex frowned as he shifted feet again, rubbing at the shoulder of the 'armor' he was wearing. He hated the helmet, though, and never formed it when he took this shape. He knew better than to think he could enter the Citadel as his 'normal' shape. The scanners out front would have a field day trying to put a name to his face, and on the off-chance it actually _did_ recognize him, he was pretty sure he was flagged as a terrorist or something else equally condemning.

For a race with such short life spans, humanity had very long memories.

When Garrus brushed past him like a turian on a mission, Alex drifted back to the present and turned to follow him. Alex glanced at the irritated former C-Sec officer and folded his arms.

"So? Did he know where to find Sidonis?"

Garrus sighed, 'frowning' again. "No, but he _did_ give us Fade's name—a familiar one. Harkin. He's in an old factory in the Factory District. I can get us there no problem."

Shepard appeared on his other side, looking displeased. "Garrus, it's not too late to rethink this."

Garrus didn't look at her as he called a taxi from the terminal. "Come on; don't want to let Harkin get away."

Alex let the turian get on before he took Shepard by the arm to stop her, catching her eye. "If you met the batarians that raided Mindoir, would _you_ 'rethink' anything?"

Shepard stiffened, staring at him before shaking free and boarding the shuttle behind Garrus. Alex eyed the shuttle with a frown. Enclosed spaces and Alex Mercer had never mixed well.

"You're making me sit in the back?" Alex protested. "I never get to sit in the front seat."

Shepard smirked. "It's not like you're going to get car sick. Just get in, Alex."

Alex rolled his eyes but stepped in, sitting with folded arms and grumbling. "Fine. But I call shotgun for the ride back."

* * *

Shepard was not all that surprised when Harkin turned out to have an entire Blue Suns squadron or two guarding him. Alex wasn't either, judging by the look of faint distaste on his face, but he didn't hesitate to raise that Black Widow of his and blow _through_ the armor of one of the mercs and separate his head from his shoulders. Judging from the recoil on that thing, anyone else would have had their shoulder dislocated. Alex just grinned and fired again without reloading; obviously the new version could hold more than one round at a time.

Shepard lined up a shot and Alex stood from cover to draw their fire. It never ceased to amaze her when Alex did that as if being shot in the torso didn't even hurt. One clipped him in the head and he staggered back for a moment before the wound regenerated itself, and he returned the favor with a sniper round through the forehead.

_He really should wear a helmet._

Shepard idly noticed one of the mercs behind a crate stiffen at Alex's display, before he ducked back down and stopped firing at them. Either that merc was a lot smarter than his friends, or he had just passed out.

Finally the rest of the mercs were dead—or about to be—so Shepard stood slowly with Garrus and held up a hand to keep the others back, motioning to the crate with the lone man behind it. She lifted her rifle and crept around the side of the cover, ready to fire as soon as the merc came into view.

She saw the merc's assault rifle first, lying on the ground with the heat sink removed, and his helmet resting nearby. It was enough for her to lower the rifle a bit.

"Stand up and put your hands behind your head!" Shepard called out, surprised when the merc did just that. He looked older than she had expected in a Blue Suns merc, maybe upwards in his late thirties, with a brutal scar on his jaw. "Why did you surrender?" she couldn't help but ask. She had _never_ had a Blue Suns mercenary give up peacefully.

"Harkin doesn't pay me enough to tango with Zeus."

Shepard's eyes widened in surprise at the name. She looked at Alex expectantly, but he had no emotion on his face and kept the Widow trained on the merc. "You know each other?"

The merc laughed. "Any merc with half a brain knows Zeus. What name you goin' by nowadays, Meat?"

'Meat' smirked, not lowering his weapon. "You should know better than to ask me that, Ethan."

Shepard sighed. "A—_Zeus_," she corrected herself, and caught Alex's eyes flick to her at her slip-up. "You know this man?"

Alex shrugged. "He's not a complete asshole. For a merc."

Garrus made an impressed noise. "That's high praise from you."

The newly dubbed Ethan kept his hands behind his head but he nodded towards one of his fallen comrades. "If you get on the radio and tell 'em Zeus is in the building, they'll fall back. None of us want a repeat of that Massani incident."

Shepard hesitated. It would be a hell of a lot easier to get to Harkin if the Blue Suns weren't in the way, but it seemed almost _too_ convenient. "Your thoughts, _Zeus?_"

Alex took a slow breath and narrowed his eyes, considering it. "Well, if they find out I'm here they'll either run back to mommy or swarm us en masse. Might be safer to just kill them all."

Ethan frowned. "You really haven't changed at all, have you?"

Alex grinned in reply. "Oh you have _no_ idea."

* * *

This was seriously complicating things. _Ethan_ was here? What were the odds? Alex remembered him from his years with the Blue Suns; the man had been one of the only ones that didn't piss themselves when Alex walked in a room. Half of him wanted to pull the trigger and send Ethan to an early grave, but the other half was reluctant to kill one of the only friendly acquaintances he'd managed to make since leaving Earth. And it looked like Shepard was being utterly unhelpful and was leaving the choice up to him.

_Shoot Ethan in the head and rip apart the rest of this company to get to Harkin. Live up to your name. Zeus. King of the gods._

_Or let him go and send the Suns running. For old times' sake. _

Alex sighed through his nose, tightening his grip on the Widow. Damn it, he really _was_ going soft. Ten years ago and he'd have already consumed the bastard, now here he was _debating_ with himself like some kind of _human_. He growled low and stared Ethan in the eye. The man was utterly unafraid of his fate, despite having witnessed firsthand what Alex could do when pissed, and that was a rare thing. Even Shepard was still uneasy whenever he used one of his abilities for anything other than rudimentary healing.

"Damn it," Alex swore, jerking the Black Widow down and pulling the trigger. Ethan cried out and jerked back as the round went through his leg, sending him to the ground. Shepard jumped in surprise.

"Alex!" she snapped, glaring at him. "What did I say about shooting unarmed prisoners?"

Alex stepped forward and kept the Widow trained on the downed merc, who was actually chuckling a bit. "That was for shooting me in the back."

Ethan fumbled for some medi-gel and pressed on the wound in his leg as Shepard paused in her rant, looking confused. Alex would have to explain later. "So it's _Alex_ now, is it?" Ethan managed, glancing up, still unafraid.

Alex grunted. "_You_ can call me Zeus." He bent over and snatched Ethan's earpiece from where he'd dropped it and put it in his ear, immediately being assault by concerned radio chatter wondering why Delta Team wasn't checking in. "Yeah, Delta Team is dead," Alex informed them, and everyone immediately fell silent. "Well, except Ethan here, and that's only because I owe him a debt. The rest of you bastards better reconsider your career choices, because if I have to carve a path through your corpses I'm going to be seriously pissed. And you don't want to know what happens when Zeus is pissed."

Alex pulled the piece from his ear and tossed it back at Ethan, who caught it in one hand.

"I don't know about the rest of you," Ethan began, holding the earpiece to his face as he struggled back to his feet, "but I'm not paid enough for this shit." There was a pause where Ethan sighed and looked at Shepard. "If they're smart, they'll get out of your way. If they're not…" he shrugged, grinning at Alex as if he _hadn't_ just shot him the leg earlier. "Well, you know what to do."

Alex smirked back, brushing past the old merc and stopping in the doorway, looking back at Shepard and Garrus. "Well? We've got a free pass to Harkin. What are you just standing around for?"

* * *

**A/N: **_Mmyeah, so Ethan is from my spin-off of this crossover called "Alpha and Omega." The events they're referring to haven't exactly... _happened_ yet in that story, but still. Fighting through a bunch of Blue Suns who are rightfully terrified of 'Zeus' seemed counterproductive considering Alex made a name for himself in that organization back when he worked with them. _

_And yes, in my version it was Alex who created the Black Widow used in ME3. The wiki entry says it was the Alliance who made it, but who's to say they didn't just get the idea from Alex and take the credit?  
_

_One more chapter or so finishing up Garrus' loyalty mission and then we get to hit the Collectors where they live! Yaaaaaaaaay!  
_


	38. Chapter 38

Harkin was a weasel, and Shepard almost let Garrus shoot him. But, of course, she had an obligation to not let her crew go around shooting _unarmed prisoners_ as they seemed so wont to do, and so she stopped him. True to his word, the Blue Suns mercs had slinked away when they saw them coming, and only a handful of legionnaires and YMIR mechs had stuck around to commit 'suicide by Zeus,' as Ethan had called it.

She still didn't like the idea of Garrus gunning for Sidonis' blood. He was quite literally skipping several key steps in the judicial process, but she didn't really have any right to talk him out of it. Alex had a point—she never expected to say those words in the same sentence—about the slavers on Mindoir. If she met the batarians responsible, she'd probably execute them on the spot without even waiting for them to speak first.

She knew what that sort of anger felt like. She just hadn't expected her most level-headed turian crewmember to be the one that finally succumbed to it. Jack she could understand. Jacob's anger against his father she could understand. Miranda's rebellion against _her_ father she could understand. But Garrus had been so idealistic during the fight against Saren… it was if his time as Archangel had completely changed how he looked at life.

And, in a way, it really was Sidonis' fault that Garrus had turned out this way. And so Shepard bit her tongue and cut off what she'd wanted to say before she said it, choosing to remain silent on the shuttle ride to where Sidonis would be waiting. Alex was being eerily silent, unnervingly so, and she kept one eye on him as they flew in relative quiet. He was still wearing his 'Zeus' disguise, and she had to admit it had been rather fortuitous that he had chosen to do so. Every second she had to spend fighting Blue Suns was another second that her crew was in danger of… whatever it was the Collectors did to their colonists. Having them back off like that had been a big time saver, and if there was one thing Shepard did not have a lot of, it was time.

She listened uneasily as Garrus outlined his plan.

It was a strangely Alex-esque plan. _'You distract the target while I shoot it in the head.'_ Maybe her viral crewmember was beginning to rub off on her favorite former C-Sec officer. She wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing or not.

Alex walked with her into the lobby as Garrus set up in the rafters, glancing at her out of the corner of his green eyes. "I can talk to him, if you like," he murmured, looking around inconspicuously. If she didn't know who he was, and what he could do, he could have been just a normal kid out for a walk on the Citadel.

A kid with heavy armor and a black sniper rifle, but a kid nonetheless.

Shepard knew what he was really saying. He'd take the blame for Sidonis' death if Shepard didn't want it. But she had to do this. She'd do it for Garrus, because she trusted him. She didn't agree, but she understood. "Thanks, but I got this."

Alex eyed her and a small smirk flitted across his face before it was gone. It had looked approving. Somehow getting Alex Mercer's approval wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

He stepped to the side to study an Avina terminal while Shepard motioned Sidonis over, her conscious nagging at her.

'_You're about to get this turian killed,' _it said. _'He's unarmed. No chance to defend himself. No chance for redemption.'_

_He lost his chance when he betrayed Garrus._

Shepard put on her most charming, reassuring smile and listened to Garrus as he got her into position. Sidonis never suspected a thing. He trusted her, because he trusted Fade and Fade had sent her here. Shepard had killed countless men in combat, but this felt like something else.

This didn't feel like self-defense, or duty. It felt like murder. Shepard took a breath and made a decision. She'd give him a chance.

Turn around, walk away.

Garrus whispered in her ear and she stepped aside, moving wide, obvious, making it clear that she was getting out of line of sight of a scope. She saw the comprehension in the turian's eyes as he obviously realized what was going on.

"Oh shit," he muttered, turning and walking away. Walking, not running. Not drawing attention to himself. Not pushing anything or anyone behind him to block Garrus' shot. He knew it was coming. As soon as she heard the _thoom_ of the rifle and Sidonis fell, Shepard turned away and headed for the shuttle.

She didn't want to look at him, at the blue blood pooling the ground. She walked quickly and Alex materialized beside her, not looking at her, not touching her.

"He deserved it," Alex told her in a conversational tone, as if he was discussing the weather.

_Yes,_ Shepard agreed. She understood. _But was he worth it?_

* * *

Alex twirled the stem of his glass between his fingers as he stared at the empty space behind the counter. He never would have imagined he would _miss_ Gardner's constant jabbering or pestering to 'taste this, you'll love it!' But he did. It was too quiet on the ship without the crew there. Like a tomb.

At least they were on their way to the relay. And if he knew Shepard, she'd find some way to get them all back. She was a hero, and that's what heroes _did_. Alex wasn't a hero, but he was damn well traveling with one. Alex smirked at his glass.

It was his… what, his sixth? Yeah, his sixth glass. And he felt _nothing_. Unless he planned to dip himself in Ryncol, he was just going to have to deal with his problems the natural way. By ignoring them until it was impossible to continue doing so. Shepard had outlined the plan for them earlier. This could very well be a one-way trip, and Alex had absolutely _no idea_ why he was still on the ship.

It made about as much sense as trusting Karen Parker. About as logical as risking his own neck to detonate the nuke outside Manhattan. He could have stayed on the Citadel, saluted Shepard and vanished into the crowd with one final _screw this_ and fell off the radar like he'd been doing _so successfully_ up until a few months ago. But he hadn't. He'd followed Shepard aboard, watched her walk up to the helm and give Joker the instructions in person rather than over the CIC, and he'd gone straight to the mess hall in another failed attempt to drink himself to oblivion.

He avoided anything that was green or blue. He wasn't taking any chances of having a repeat of the Ryncol Incident. He needed to be in one relatively intact piece for this.

Because shit was about to hit the proverbial fan, and he wanted to be conscious enough to complain to Shepard about it. He could faintly hear Garrus and Tali in the 'calibration chamber' down the hall, talking about who knows what. Miranda was with Jacob up on the main deck. Jack was probably blasting rock music in the engineering deck and doing the same thing he was; attempting to get shit-face drunk and failing miserably. Grunt was… Grunt-ing. Mordin was refining the seeker repellant, more than likely. Alex couldn't care less what the Justicar was doing, and he could faintly hear Kasumi listening to her greybox in her room.

Everyone had their own thing to be doing before they sail down the Styx into hades.

Alex drained what was left in his drink and threw the glass against the nearest wall, watching with some satisfaction as it shattered in a small tinkling of noise. He heard footsteps approaching, but didn't turn to look, just sent a whipfist for another glass and poured another drink.

Shepard sat on the stool beside him, resting her elbows on the counter and her head in her hands, staring at nothing. "You nervous, Alex?"

Alex paused mid-sip to glance at her. Was she really asking him that? He slowly set the glass back down and turned to face her, trying to read her expressionless face for a clue. It didn't matter how many people he consumed, how many memories he assimilated. He would never understand women. "Why would I be? We've got the great Commander Shepard on our side. The Collectors will be spitting teeth out their asses by the time we're through with them." He chuckled and took another drink.

Shepard shook her head beside him, but she was smirking a bit now. A little more relaxed. Alex couldn't even begin to fathom what a human would be thinking about a time like this. All _he_ was thinking about was the various ways he intended to explore the Collector anatomy, and how utterly screwed Harbinger is going to be if he's anywhere near the ship. And how much of an absolute _idiot_ he was for coming along in the first place.

Apparently wisdom did _not_ come with age.

"I feel like I'm leading them to their deaths," Shepard admitted, grabbing Alex's drink before he had a chance to and draining the rest of it. She coughed immediately afterwards since she hadn't bothered to check the bottle before taking what was rightfully his. "The hell?" she protested, still coughing. Now she stared incredulously at the empty glass. "What was _in_ that? Broken glass?"

Alex smirked. "I don't really know. It was a bottle, and it had alcohol in it, and so I was drinking it." He frowned a bit, picking up the bottle and turning it around. "I think it might be medicinal."

"For raising the bloody _dead_ maybe," Shepard wheezed, pounding her chest and pushing his glass back with a grimace. Alex just laughed. She seemed to collect herself again and sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

Alex eyed her. He wasn't good at this consoling people shit. That had always been Dana's department. Alex broke things, and Dana put them back together. He was really only half a person without her. _Less_ than half, if he reminded himself that he wasn't human to start with. Or, if he wanted to be particularly morbid, he was a whole bunch of halves of a person. Thousands of halves. That were screaming in his head.

"You're not leading them anywhere they don't want to go, Shepard," Alex grumbled as he stared at his empty glass and debated whether or not to refill it. "You have a knack for picking up lunatics, and those lunatics would follow you into hell if you asked them nicely enough." He saluted her with the empty glass. "Present company included."

"But why?" Shepard was asking, almost in a whisper. Alex wondered how long she had been wanting to ask someone these questions but hadn't been able to. "I'm just an ex-Alliance Commander with a token Spectre status. I didn't stop Saren by myself, you know. There have got to be more capable soldiers out there that could do a better job."

Alex growled, setting the glass down and glancing at her. "Yeah? Well I wouldn't have followed anyone else, and that has to count for something. Look," he put an elbow on the counter and pointed his finger in her face, making her cross-eyed, "are you about to cry about how undeserving you are and how you aren't worth the respect the crew gives you? Because if you are, take it to Vakarian because I'm not about to put up with it. You are the damn commander of this ship, and for reasons unknown to me the people on board it are willingly following you through an alien relay with no guarantee they'll ever come out again. You didn't even have to threaten any of them, and that's a damn sight better than I could have done."

Shepard sighed and put her head on her folded arms, resting on the table. She mumbled something into her arms and Alex smirked, leaning closer.

"What was that, Shepard? I couldn't hear you."

She raised her head and glared at him. "_You're right, Alex._ Happy?" Alex just grinned at her. She sighed again and ran fingers through her hair. It was getting long. "I guess I'm just… tired. Tired of war." She fell silent before reaching for the bottle and filling his glass, taking a long drink of it. Without asking. "You know, when the original Normandy was destroyed and I got spaced?" Alex nodded. "I was freaking the hell out, of course. Anyone would be. But… I was also kind of… I don't know, relieved? Like I'd served humanity to the best of my ability, that I could pass the mantle onto someone else."

"And then the Bitch and Timmy revived you."

Shepard smirked at the nicknames, but nodded. "Yeah. And now there's another war I've got to fight—and don't get me wrong, I'll fight and I'll die trying to win this thing—but I just wonder if it's ever actually going to end."

Alex eyed his glass in her grip and drained the bottle instead. He still felt nothing. Damn. "It's not." He threw the empty bottle at the wall and watched it break, too. He stared at the glass for a second before looking back at Shepard. Dana would laugh at him if she heard him saying this. "And it won't, not so long as there are people like you fighting it." At the face she made as he said that, he held up a hand with a wry grin. "You don't want war to end, Shepard. The day people stop fighting and wars stop starting… that's the day there's nothing left to fight for. You don't want to live long enough to see that day come, Shepard." Alex knew, because _he_ would live long enough to see it. He'd live long enough to see a lot of rather unpleasant things.

Shepard stared at him for a long minute, long enough for him to wonder if she'd somehow become intoxicated from two glasses of… whatever that had been. And then she smiled. She seemed… lighter. Relieved. Alex had absolutely no idea why. _Women._

"You _do_ have a heart in there," she teased, poking his chest. Alex bristled but didn't swat her away. She had to be tipsy. There was no reason she would be touching him or grinning at him otherwise. "You know, for a man-eating virus, you're an okay guy."

Alex looked back at the wall, shrugging. "Not really. It's just too much effort to be otherwise."

"Mmhmm," Shepard hummed noncommittally, standing to rustle through the cabinets for another bottle. It was green. Bright green. _Familiar _green. Alex leaned away from it when she sat back down, keeping his eyes locked on it, feeling his biomass roiling beneath his skin. He barely resisted the urge to hiss at it. She took one look at his face and burst out laughing. She laughed loud enough for Alex to hear Garrus and Tali fall silent, for Kasumi to pause the recording on her greybox. She waved the green tube at him and he slid over a seat, glaring daggers at her. "It's only toxic if we add the other one," she insisted.

Alex did not believe her. At all.

"You drink it then," Alex grumbled, hunching his shoulders and watching her laugh and pour a glass. He growled at her, warningly, when she tried to offer it to him. She just smiled innocently and drained it. "Don't come crawling to me when you need someone to pick you off the floor in the morning."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Alex." Shepard took another swig of the damn green tube.

Alex looked at the wall again, ignoring her random bouts of laughter and innocuous questions. He didn't stop her. She was Commander Jane Shepard, and tomorrow she was walking into the lion's den.

If she wanted to do so with a hangover, she was more than welcome to.

* * *

**A/N: **_Next chapter: Collectors and Scions and Husks, OH MY! I always wondered what Shepard was thinking during Garrus' loyalty mission, when she steps out of his line of fire so _obviously_. An idiot could have figured out what she was doing. There had to be some kind of more subtle way to go about getting him in position rather than blatantly announcing it to the world like that. Oh well. __  
_

_The famous 'We'll be at the relay in two hours, Commander. Go have alien relations with your LI or hang around depressingly in your cabin until we get there' scene. Now with 85% more Mercer and Tipsy!Shepard.  
_


	39. Chapter 39

**Note:** _Happy Memorial Day! God bless America.  
_

* * *

Alex glanced up as Shepard filed into the com room, pressing her palms flat on the table as she took a steadying breath. To her credit, she showed no signs of the drinks she'd had the night before. Of course, neither did Alex, but he never did. Alex stood from the table and slid a datapad in front of her, making her blink and look down.

"This is the layout of the base," he told her when she looked at him in confusion. Alex smirked. "Figure these damn memories ought to be good for _something_."

Shepard nodded, all business, and quickly scanned the diagram he'd built after she'd left for her cabin the night before. "Any entrances?"

"Three. A main hangar bay, a ventilation shaft, and a small side entrance. You can bet your ass they'll have that ship of theirs parked in the hangar, but I doubt they'll have a lot of security set up. What are the odds someone would be able to reach them in the first place?"

Shepard looked at the ceiling. "Joker, get everyone to the com room."

"Aye, Commander."

Shepard was tapping her foot against the floor, and it was just mildly distracting and out of character enough that Alex chose not to comment on it. He watched through hooded eyes as the crew walked in, quietly for the most part, and took their customary positions around the table. Even Jack looked relatively somber compared to what she normally was.

_This is it,_ Alex mused as he leaned carelessly against the wall, watching them with a smirk. _The Endgame. _Unlike the humans and the aliens gathered here, Alex was decidedly less worried about what might occur. He didn't fear the Collectors, and while those Particle Beams of theirs stung like a bitch, Alex was pretty confident in the upgrades he'd made to his armor since then.

Being stranded behind the Omega 4 relay was not _ideal_, but he knew better than to think it would be the death of him. Unless Shepard intended to detonate a massive explosive in the base with him standing two feet away, Alex was almost 98.75% certain that he would walk away from this with all his limbs intact.

And if he manages to lose one, he could just regrow it.

There was always that 1.25% chance of inexplicable and sudden death, of course, but what was life without a little risk?

"This is it," Shepard broke the silence, and Alex covered his mouth to hide his grin. If the next words out of her mouth are 'the Endgame,' he was going to laugh. Fortunately, Shepard was not a mind-reader and so he managed to keep himself contained. "You all know this could be a one-way trip. No one knows what's behind the Omega 4 relay, but today we're about to find out."

Miranda pressed her palms flat on the table as she leaned forward, displaying the customary amount of cleavage and ass for the men in the room to gawk at. Alex was unimpressed. "Thanks to Mercer's intel, this is the layout of the base as we know it." She flicked a hand and a holographic representation of the base shimmered to life.

"Wait," Kasumi broke in, sounding confused. "Lexi _drew_ that?"

Alex flashed her a grin from beneath his hood. "I have a very accurate memory."

"_As I was saying,_" Miranda broke in, looking irritated at the interruptions. She sent a glare at Kasumi, who waved meekly, but avoided reprimanding Alex, who smirked. "Our best possible entrance is probably here," and a line appeared pointing to the side entrance Alex had pointed out to Shepard earlier. "We suspect that interior security will be minimal, but once they know we're there we can be sure to encounter heavy resistance."

Shepard frowned, looking at the diagram floating in front of them. "What about the doors? Won't the Collectors just lock us out the first time we engage them?"

Alex stepped forward, having to shoulder between Grunt and Samara to get there—he sent the Jusitcar a glare and a non-subtle threat to back off—before turning his gaze to the hologram. "Send someone through the vents," he told Shepard, nodding at the second arrow that pointed to the new entrance. "The Collectors won't have defenses inside the ventilation shafts, and they'll be able to disengage the locks on the doors while the rest of you provide a distraction. I'd suggest two teams, probably led by Shepard and the Bi—er, _Miss Lawson_—respectively."

Miranda, apparently either missing the insult or choosing to ignore it, seemed to perk up at that. "As loathe as I am to admit it, Mercer has a valid point. If we split up we can divide their forces and meet up at the doors here," she physically pointed this time to a glowing room that Alex's fragmented Collector memories had identified as the main chamber. "And I would be honored to assume command of the Fire Team, Commander," Miranda added on. She sent Alex a nod, which surprised him enough to return it hesitantly, and then her attention was back on Shepard.

Alex furrowed his brow as he listened to the others debate whether or not Miranda should lead. He hadn't really been considering her flaws when he'd suggested she lead the team. Out of everyone here besides Garrus—who Alex was reasonably certain would want to accompany Shepard—the Bitch was the only one with any real experience leading a squad. _He'd_ rather strangle himself with his own tentacles before following any of the Bitch's orders, but this was definitely Not the Time to put grudges above logic.

"Miranda is right," Shepard finally interjected, subsequently halting all further protest. Alex smirked beneath his hood. And she had been worried about the crew following her willingly. If she said jump, they wouldn't even bother asking how high before they were hopping about like rabbits. "We don't know what we'll be dealing with defense wise…" here she cut a glance at Alex, as if hoping he would have miraculous information he had been withholding up until now, and he just stared at her until she continued, unfazed. "…but it's likely to get pretty hot pretty quickly in those vents, if these readouts are correct."

"They are," Alex cut in. Shepard ignored him.

She was getting awfully good at that.

"Legion, you'll be in the vents. The geth can hack through anything, and odds are you'd do better in an extreme environment than Kasumi or Tali."

Legion's eye twitched. "Affirmative, Shepard-Commander. We acknowledge this as a practical course of action."

"Miranda, pick your squad."

Miranda did not hesitate as she pointed to Thane and Mordin, who both nodded in turn. Alex looked at the Bitch appraisingly. She'd purposefully avoided picking anyone Shepard would want to bring with her. Shepard nodded approvingly before turning back to the others.

"Garrus, Alex, you're with me."

Alex jerked himself back to the present as he stepped forward, raising a hand. "Hold up. I'm not going with you."

Shepard stared at him. "This is _not_ the time to be joking around, Alex."

Alex frowned. "I'm being perfectly serious, Shepard." He shrugged one shoulder and pointed at the hangar bay where the Collector ship was more than likely parked. "From what I've gathered from the Collector's memories, they operate on a Hive mind. If we cut off the queen, the drones will be no more than useless sacks of flesh and chitin." Alex raised a brow at an unimpressed Shepard. "You're infiltrating the Collector home base with a group of maybe a dozen. There could be _thousands_ of Collectors in there, not to mention the seeker swarms and who knows what else. Scions, husks, abominations… you need a Plan B, Shepard."

"And you running off by yourself is a good idea _how_?" Shepard asked, drumming fingers on the table.

"If I can get to the Collector general and kill it, the rest of the Collectors will lose Harbinger's influence. They're not intelligent independently, Shepard. They're programmed to obey, not to make decisions. Without someone controlling them, I'm pretty sure they won't have the common sense to do much more than wander around."

"Commander," Miranda spoke up, and then hesitated. "As much as I hate the idea of letting Mercer run off on his own, he does have a point. We really should have some sort of back-up in place just in case… in case we fail. Humanity deserves that chance."

Shepard stared at her second-in-command before turning her unreadable glare back on Alex. "And you think you can find this 'general' of theirs _before_ we stumble on the main horde?"

Alex dipped his head and closed his eyes, seeing a flash of yellow-tinted hallways and the whispers of a metallic voice. He glanced up and caught her eye, not smiling. "Yes."

Shepard held his gaze for another three seconds before nodding curtly and looking around. "All right. Garrus and Tali with me, then. Alex will split off and find the Collector general and disable it in case we get overwhelmed. Everyone else follow Miranda's lead, but stay back and stay alert. They've had our crew for long enough. I think it's time we got them back. Joker?"

"Ready when you are, Commander."

Shepard took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. "Hit it."

* * *

**A/N: **_Sorry for the slight delay on this one, and the relatively short length of it. As I told a few of you in PMs, I've managed to get sick again (I blame Alex) and spent most of yesterday in bed trying to pretend my head didn't feel like it was about to explode or something equally messy._

_From here on the story will be taking a slight turn away from canon events (as if including Alex Mercer in this universe wasn't a turn in and of itself), as I'm sure you noticed from Alex's plan. Juuuust a warning, in case there are a few die-hard canon-nazi's out there that don't want me to change anything. In case there was any confusion, no they have not gone through the relay yet. Alex had the general layout of the place thanks to his memories, and it never made sense to me why Shepard waited until the _last possible second_ to summon the crew and come up with a plan. Granted, the canon Shepard didn't already have the diagram of the base like mine does, but STILL. _


	40. Chapter 40

There were worse things, she supposed, than holding onto Joker's chair and praying desperately that they didn't collide with any debris once they'd left the relay. There were probably worse things than Alex laughing while she does so, too, but she couldn't think of any off the top of her head. She supposed she could understand why he wasn't a nervous wreck like she was, or how he somehow managed to not be at all worried like the rest of the crew.

After all, there were only two 'people' on the ship who really didn't have any reason to be afraid, and the other one was a geth.

Shepard had briefly toyed with the idea of just making Alex go in alone and wipe out everyone on the station, but that would take too long and they might lose the crew. He'd pulled on that creepy black Collector armor of his, and she idly wondered if that would let him blend in at all on this suicide mission he seemed to have assigned to himself.

She was skeptical about his plan, but both he and Miranda had managed to agree on it, and that had to count for _something_. She liked the idea of Alex being off by himself on an alien ship about as much as she liked the idea of coming here in the first place, but if anyone on her crew could survive on their own for any length of time in any environment, it was Alex.

As Joker swore and a rather large piece of a broken ship collided with the Normandy, Shepard sent a silent thanks to Tali for the new shielding. She'd spent an inordinate amount of supplies getting the ship as ready as humanly—and turian-ly, and quarian-ly—as possible, and as of this moment she didn't regret a single bit of it.

Shepard stumbled when something collided with the ship and latched on, EDI's voice and Joker's warnings quite gravely informing her that something was _clawing its way into the cargo deck_ and that she should probably _do something about it_.

She looked at Alex, who glanced back through eerie yellow eyes and nodded once.

"I'll take care of it," he called as he sprinted through the door towards the elevator. Shepard blinked. Damn but the man could be fast when the situation called for it.

Ten rather eventful minutes later, and Shepard had a much larger problem than a few nosy probes digging through her hull.

Everyone in the helm fell silent as they watched part of the base open and a _very_ familiar ship began to slide free.

"Looks like they're sending out an old friend to greet us," Joker muttered. Shepard kept her eyes locked on the ship.

The first time she'd encountered that ship, the Normandy had been destroyed and she'd been spaced. The second time, she had lost almost all of her crew. She did not intend to let either of those things happen again.

"Time to show them our new teeth. Fire the main gun," Shepard barked, and Joker grinned.

"Aye aye, Commander."

* * *

Alex was not having a very good time in the cargo hold. The probe was _big_ and it was shooting _lasers_ at him, and he was not happy. He'd figured out rather quickly that claws and blades weren't going to do much good against the metal hull of this thing, so it was with a rather irritated growl that he pulled one of the large metal fans from the ground and hurled it as hard as he could at the Collector probe. Shepard was probably going to blow a gasket once she found out he'd ripped part of her ship off, but she'd get over it.

The probe locked on him and he saw a brilliant flash of red before the beam launched at him. He jerked to the side but due to his thick armor, he wasn't _quite_ fast enough to avoid all of it. It clipped his arm and he swore, rolling behind a desk and glancing at the damage.

_Well, damn_, he frowned. His entire left arm was missing from the shoulder down, red and black tendrils already swarming the area in an effort to recreate the limb. _Note to self: avoid Red Beam of Death. Good plan, Mercer. _

It had been a while since he fought something capable of actually doing him any damage, and while losing his arm was unfortunate, it wasn't fatal and certainly wasn't enough to stop him. He rolled his shoulder as his biomass writhed and reconnected into an arm, and glared around the edge of his cover at the metal probe. Stupid ball was going to regret that.

He launched himself over the desk when he was sure the thing wasn't about to hit him with the Beam of Death again, and swung around to land on top of it, gripping an exposed panel with one hand and slamming his other hand elbow-deep into a pile of rather important-looking wires.

The probe did not appreciate that.

It began to _screech_, and if Alex had eardrums they would have ruptured immediately. It jerked around the room in a rather humorous attempt to dislodge him, but after the fourth time it had crushed him against the ceiling, Alex decided he'd had enough. He jerked his hand free, pulling as many wires and circuits free as he could, and the probe sputtered and fell to the ground, rolling towards one wall. Alex leapt free and slammed his hammerfists into the glass 'eye' of the probe, shattering it and making it whine once before it flickered and died.

He growled at the broken probe and rolled it to the hole it had burnt into the hull, kicking it free and watching it float away. He sighed and rolled his shoulders.

He had turned back towards the elevator to head up and see how Shepard was doing when the ship suddenly swerved and he staggered, catching himself on one of the cooling fans scattered around. He looked out the jagged tear in the hull and could see a glimpse of the Collector ship, like a rather large and weaponized shark at sea, firing at them. He gripped the fan tighter. If the probe's weapon could vaporize his arm, he didn't really want to see what the beam from the damn _ship_ would do.

He also didn't really feel like testing his body's ability to survive in the vacuum of space, and held onto the metal fan for all he was worth as Joker proved what an absolute _ass_ he was by cartwheeling around and almost flinging Alex out of the ship. But then he heard the explosion, and the ship rocked, and _they'd just blown up the Collector ship_, and Alex grinned at the destruction beneath his helmet.

Oh, and then Joker flew through them _through_ the ship they'd just detonated, and Alex filed the pilot's sanity under 'nonexistent' as they introduced the front of the Normandy to the side of the Collector base.

Once the Normandy had stopped moving, Alex opened his eyes again—_when had he closed them?_—and blinked. He tried to move but found himself rather unfortunately pinned to the wall by the fan he'd been holding onto. To his credit, he still hadn't let the thing go. With a snarl, he kicked the metal fan off of him and stood, cracking his arm back into place from where it had bent unnaturally and shaking off the slight twinge of discomfort that caused.

He sighed and held up his arm—fortunately the one that _hadn't_ had to regrow itself—to stare at the omni-tool Shepard had made him wear. He'd very rarely used the things outside his mercenary days since his mind basically _was_ an encyclopedia of knowledge and passcodes, but he could see the benefits of being able to stay in radio contact with everyone else.

"_You all right down there, Alex?" _Shepard's static voice cracked over the com.

"No, I'm horribly deformed and the probe's main weapon was made out of ionized Ryncol. Bring a shovel and Ms. Scuttles when you come to scrape me off the floor."

"_This is not the time, Mercer."_ Ooh, she was using his last name. That meant she was pissed. _"Get to the CIC; if you're not up here in five minutes we're leaving without you."_

"So bossy…" Alex grumbled as he cracked his neck and headed for the doors. "You do remember that I'm not even going in the same entrance as you, right?"

"_Could you at least _pretend_ to take this seriously?"_

Alex slid up to the CIC and saw Shepard standing around with Garrus and Tali. The Bitch and her squad must have already left. What did she want him to do? Burst into tears and sob hysterically? Yeaaaah no. That wasn't going to happen. "I'm scared," he deadpanned. "Hold me?"

Shepard sighed, the sound altered through her helmet, as she turned and jumped down onto the base. Alex stepped out after her and stared at the massive structure, yellow tinted eyes not blinking. He didn't see anything that looked like a Reaper, at least, so he wouldn't have to punch Harbinger in the face.

Yet.

Alex watched as Garrus and Tali readied their weapons and Shepard took a steadying breath. Alex clapped her on the shoulder, making her jump. "If you die, try to die close to the door so I don't have to look as hard to find your body."

Shepard laughed. Once. "I'll do my best to leave my corpse somewhere easily accessible, then."

"I appreciate it," Alex told her gravely, grinning as he headed across the field towards the hangar bay.

"Alex," she called after him, and he turned to glance back, curious. "Good luck."

Alex hesitated, fingers twitching. _I don't believe in luck. _He shifted feet, debating with himself, before he shook his head and went back to her side, pulling the Widow from his back and pushing it into her hands. "If you lose this so help me I will _eat you_."

Shepard's eyes were wide behind her helmet, and she stared at the Black Widow. "I… thank you. But, won't this break my arm?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, Shepard. I gave you a weapon you can't safely fire without shattering something important. Honestly." He looked back at her. "The recoil's a bitch, but it's not as bad as Legion's version. Just don't hold it against your forehead when you fire it and you should be fine."

Shepard gripped the rifle and pulled the Viper off her back, leaving it by the ship. She looked at Alex again. "I'll take good care of it, Alex."

Alex growled low. "Just…" he shook his head. "Just don't lose it. If you die and this falls into a chasm I am going to be pissed."

Shepard just smiled and nodded, gesturing for Tali and Garrus to move up. She glanced back at Alex once, saluting him, and then she was gone.

He watched until he couldn't see them anymore before breaking into a run, letting everything except the base beneath his feet and the large entrance of the Collector hangar fade away.

* * *

It felt good to be a predator again, able to hold nothing back as he made the distances pass like a blur, blending seamlessly into shadows, ripping Collectors and husks apart as if they were made of paper. There were no human casualties to watch for, no one he had to keep in mind, no one he had to protect. He could just _let go_, and it was _wonderful_.

He never took a wrong turn, because he was Alex Mercer, and Alex Mercer did not take wrong turns. He kept his mind walled off from any sort of outside interference, not daring to connect to the Collector hive mind, but kept the radio line open. Occasionally he'd hear Shepard or the Bitch shouting orders, or relaying locations of various enemies.

It did not surprise him when he beat them to the main chamber. It did, however, surprise him that the chamber was empty. This was a prime position for an ambush, but his thermal vision picked up nothing but the forms in the pods around him. Alex slowed to a halt beside one of them, staring through his helmet at the form behind it.

He knew that face. _Chambers_. He stepped closer, curious. What were the Collectors _doing_ with them? Fragmented memories assaulted him and he grunted, irritated, and then he widened his eyes because they were going to _melt_ the crew and if he let that happen Shepard would be _ticked_.

He searched the pod for any kind of seam, but found nothing. It was as if the damn thing had grown around her. Chambers' eyes fluttered open and she began to panic, and Alex made a decision. He could either stand here like an idiot and watch Miss Cheerful get liquefied, or he could be a big damn hero and save the day.

_Decisions, decisions…_

He summoned biomass to his hands and slammed a hammerfist into the pod's face, making it shatter and crack open, dumping a rather terrified Yeoman Chambers into his arms. He barely resisted the urge to drop her and move on, instead setting her almost gently on the ground as he turned to the next pod. By now they were all beginning to wake up, and according to his memories, that meant they were about to be melted.

As Alex punched every pod before immediately moving to the next, letting the crew fall to their hands and knees on the ground, he idly wondered if this was what the humans he consumed felt. This kind of raw animal panic when they open their eyes and realize they're about to be broken down for their genetic material. Alex frowned as he reached the end of the row, looking up at all the pods above and beyond his reach, hoping there weren't any other crew members in them.

The Collector he'd consumed didn't have the kind of 'memories' that Alex was used to. It knew the processes, and _how_ to do things, but it didn't have a _why_. More of a generalized _We Obey the Old Machines_ kind of thought process that made his head hurt when he tried to concentrate on it.

He turned back at the sound of coughing and counted heads. He saw all the essential crewmembers, at least. Chakwas, Chambers, Gardner, Gabby and Daniels… and a bunch he didn't really care to know the name of. Huh. He'd thought there were more people on the ship. Alex really couldn't find it in himself to worry where the rest of them were.

They crew were still trembling, staring at him, and he belatedly realized he pretty much looked like a Collector.

"Yeah, so, Shepard's on her way," Alex informed them, and they seemed to perk up at that. "Just… stay here and… don't get killed until she gets here. I've got things to do, places to be, people to eat… you understand."

"Alex?" Chambers asked in a halting, hopeful voice. Alex turned yellow eyes on her.

"No, it's Jacob—of _course_ it's Alex." Alex snorted. "Please, save your applause until the real hero shows up." He made a 'stay here' gesture with both hands and turned for the exit. He ignored them calling after him as he broke into a run.

He was _close_ now. Shepard would pick up the crew, he was sure of it. He'd done his part. It was time for her to do hers.

* * *

Shepard ducked behind cover as Harbinger fired at her position. She knew by now to wait exactly five seconds for the slow-moving but deadly projectile to impact the cover before standing to shoot again. It had been the most heart-stopping time of her life as she sprinted from panel to panel, struggling to make sure Legion didn't burst into flames in the vents or overheat or… whatever might have happened if she didn't make it in time.

Now she was trying to fight her way to the doors where Miranda's squad—and Legion—were trying to get it open and hold it that way. She lined up a shot with Harbinger's head and pulled the trigger.

The Black Widow was a _lot _of gun, and even after a few dozen shots she still wasn't used to the kickback on the thing. She had to admit, though, that it punched through Collector heads as if they were made of paper mache, and even Harbinger's thick skull couldn't handle more than two rounds before vaporizing into thin air.

It was also _loud_, and she'd had to turn down the speakers in her helmet in order to hear what her squad was saying. She wasn't entirely sure why Alex was letting her use it—the man was as protective of his weapons as a mother bear and her cubs—but she appreciated the gesture regardless. He was probably going to bug her about paying him back somehow after this was all over.

Assuming they survived.

_No, don't think that way. _Shepard fired two more rounds into Harbinger and the Collector fell. She jumped over the low cover and yelled for Garrus and Tali to follow her. The doors had ground open, and Miranda was providing cover fire for them.

She all but slid through the doors in time for Legion to let them slam shut, and she took a deep breath in relief. "I knew you could do it, Legion," Shepard smiled at the geth, who just look at her as if to say _was there ever any doubt, Shepard-Commander?_

Miranda cleared her throat, and Shepard looked over at her second in command and followed her line of sight. "I think we found the crew, Commander."

Shepard blinked. She could see roughly half of her abducted crew standing around in a tight group in the next room, looking nervous but very much alive. At a glance she could see Chakwas comforting a panicking Chambers, Gabby and Daniels were talking to Garnder, and she recognized a few of the crew that had worked in the CIC deck.

She jogged over to them, and the crew immediately stood at attention. Well, everyone except Chambers, who was still trying to calm down.

"Is everyone all right?" Shepard asked, rather reduntantly seeing as how they were unharmed, if a bit shaken.

Chakwas stood and approached her. "You… you came back for us?" she whispered, as if she couldn't believe it was real. "Mercer said you were, but we couldn't believe it." Shepard breathed a sigh of relief. Alex had found them first, and he'd actually bothered to stop and save them. She turned and saw the shattered pods; they looked pretty thick. She wasn't sure her squad would have been able to break them open in time. "If only you could have come a bit sooner…" Chakwas went on, and Shepard refocused on her. "We lost so many. Williams, Johnson, James…"

Shepard flinched with each name. _You should have been faster. You should have come immediately. _But she had to make sure they were ready. She had to be sure they would survive. She needed her crew focused. "I'm sorry, Dr. Chakwas," Shepard muttered, "I should have been faster. But I needed to prepare, and…"

Chakwas shook her head, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We don't blame you, Commander. You came back for us, and that's more than we could have ever expected."

Shepard pushed the guilt to the background for now. She had to keep her head level. "Do you know what the Collectors want with us?"

Chakwas paled and shook her head. "We… couldn't see them, but we heard the screaming. It was… terrible. I… I think they were melting down the colonists for their material." She gestured to the massive tubes leading up to the ceiling.

Shepard pulled up her omni-tool and looked at the diagram Alex had made. "Looks like those are heading into this big chamber, here." Miranda appeared at her side to look at the image. "Chances are whatever they're doing to the colonists will be in that room."

"What about us, Commander?" Chakwas spoke up. "We're in no condition to fight."

"We can't afford to wait, Commander," Miranda interjected, already calling her squad to get ready.

Shepard looked at the crew. She'd be damned if she left them here to fend for themselves after she'd failed them so spectacularly. "We'll send someone with you to escort you back to the ship. Mordin! Take them to Joker."

Mordin nodded swiftly and pulled up his omni-tool as Miranda replaced him with Grunt.

"The next room is displaying massive energy signatures pertaining to the seeker swarms. Mordin's countermeasure will not be sufficient in such large numbers," EDI informed them, and Shepard sighed.

"There had to be some way. What about biotics? Could we make a shield to keep them away?"

Samara stepped forward. "Yes. I could not shield everyone at once, but I could protect a small group."

Miranda nodded. "So could I. In theory, any biotic could do it."

Shepard looked back at Samara. "You're with us then, Samara. Miranda, find another way around and meet us there."

"Yes, Commander."

* * *

**A/N: **_I wrote this chapter when I was still operating at 32% capacity, so I went back and tweaked it to make it more than just a bare bones skeleton of a chapter. As a result, it ended up being 3500 words instead of 1500. Unlike the rest of the game so far, I'm not watching playthroughs or reading scripts of what everyone says and does for the Suicide Mission since I'm changing it up so much. I'm winging it! Go memory! _

_I wanted to save the whole crew, but that isn't really logical since Shepard didn't go immediately to rescue them. I did fudge and let her save all the 'named' crewmembers, though, because I love them and because I'd feel guilty if I killed them off. Hopefully it's still "Hyliian Quality" since I'm pretty loopy right now. Yay sickness!  
_

_I ARE WRITER and I shan't let a cold best me!  
_


	41. Chapter 41

Alex pressed his back against the rather slimy wall, grateful he couldn't feel it through his armor, and peered around the corner. _Damn_ but that was a lot of scions. He was obviously getting closer to the general if _this_ was the kind of security they'd set up. He hoped Shepard was still alive to appreciate the effort he was going through on her behalf. The radio chatter had fallen silent a few minutes ago, and while it was entirely possible there was simply interference from something unpleasant, there was always that chance she'd gotten herself killed.

Alex shook his head. This was, again, Not the Time to think about that kind of thing. He let the biomass shiver and crawl down his arms until the three-fingered claws took their place, and he swerved out of cover and flung them at the group of scions, stringing them up in mid-air with tendrils as they moaned and struggled weakly.

Aww and they had been so nice and bunched up, too. How nice of them to make it easier for him. Scions weren't exactly known for their agility, and without touching the ground he doubted they'd be able to use that blue earthquake / shockwave thing, so they were pretty harmless.

_Buuut_ they were made by Harbinger, and for that reason they had to die.

Messily.

He shifted to his blade and leapt at the nearest one, neatly bisecting it and sliding away before he got covered in scion goo. Ugh. He could smell them through his helmet, and it was _awful_. The others didn't so much as twitch in reaction to their comrade's rather gruesome death, and so he demonstrated to them what it felt like to be cut in half, leaving them to, well _bleed out_ he supposed. The big blue humps on their shoulders were full of organs and sticky substances, and he found out quite on accident that if he poked even the smallest hole in them the scion would actually begin to thrash around as if in actual pain.

Fascinating.

But he had bigger things to be doing than studying a bunch of dying, suspended scions, and so he went merrily on his way.

A husk ambled out from beneath the floor and grabbed at him, and he repaid the favor by crushing the former human's head under his heel with a rather satisfying _crack_ of metal and chitin. Honestly. It was as if the Collectors weren't taking him seriously, and that simply Would Not Do.

He shifted to his claws and ducked beneath a rather awkward swing from another husk, digging talons into its torso and ripping it apart with a growl. This had been fun the first few dozen husks, but now it was just irritating. He had somewhere to be, dammit, and he wanted to be there _now_.

He formed his shield and began to run, plowing through the Collectors and husks that were stupid enough to get in his way as he took a sharp turn and up a ramp. If his memories could be trusted, and they could, he was only a few steps away from his target.

He pulled his blade and slid into the next room, eyes flicking around the multiple terminals and columns scattered throughout, and then he saw it.

A squat insect-creature unlike any other Collector he'd seen so far was skittering over a large ring of screens in the center of the room, with a floating hologram of a Reaper hovering in the center of them. Alex stepped into the room and flexed his blade, moving on silent feet towards his prey.

_The Collector general. We meet at last._

Alex paused when the Reaper hologram shifted to face him, and the Collector turned its pyramid head to stare at him through several glowing yellow eyes. The insect twitched but didn't turn to face him, instead keeping its pointed fingers jabbing over the screens like a puppet on strings.

**"Virus. So much wasted potential."**

Alex stepped towards the Collector general and stared into its many eyes. The creature twitched again, its fingers jerking a little on the console, as if it would _really_ like to be attacking him right now but was unable to.

"As much as I'd love to monologue with you, I'm kind of in a hurry," Alex pressed the tip of his blade to the Collector's back, and it shrieked at him but didn't move away. Man being possessed by Harbinger must _suck_. He jerked his blade forward and watched the tip erupt out the front of the general's chest, and it now it _screamed_.

It jerked and shuddered on his blade, and he waited until the glow left its eyes before letting his consumer tendrils crawl across its frame and assimilate it. He was _not_ about to play host with a Reaper again. Alex stumbled and braced himself on the terminal as he held his head with his other hand, images flickering behind his eyes almost too fast for him to catch. For a single instant, he could feel _every_ Collector as a part of his consciousness before they severed and he was left alone with the voices in his head.

He jerked his head sharply to the side to clear it and looked back at the hologram staring at him.

**"You cannot comprehend the magnitude of our existence," **Harbinger grated in that metallic voice of his. Who was he trying to convince? **"We **_**will**_** bring order to the chaos."**

Well that didn't sound at all ominous. Alex looked back at the ring of terminals and screens flicking in front of him. With the general's memories, he knew exactly what to push and what to enter to shut this station down, to wipe the Collectors off the map and ensure they would never abduct another human again. He could destroy the station with the press of a button.

Or he could take control of it.

Alex pressed his palms flat against the terminal, shifting through the genetic memories of the Collector general and bringing them to the forefront. His vision cracked and fragmented, and with a flick of his will he silenced the frantic screaming in his head, opening his mind to the Collector Hive.

He could feel them, all of them, struggling through the darkness without direction, all but brainless without Harbinger to drive them. They needed a leader. They needed a guiding hand.

Alex could be both.

He fixed glowing yellow eyes on the screens and spread his awareness to every Collector on the station, and felt them freeze at the contact.

_**"****Stop,"**_ he projected to them, and they obeyed. Every muscle tensed, every gun stopped firing, every seeker swarm fell to the ground as their wings ceased their constant movement. He had brought order to the chaos.

Like a Reaper.

Like Harbinger.

_Like Greene._

No. He was different. He wouldn't use them as an army. Not yet. Not here. Not now. He could feel their minds like empty canvases stretched before him, and he saw the world through their eyes.

All of them.

At _once_.

He saw Shepard and Garrus and Tali, staring as the Collectors they had been fighting stopped and lowered their weapons. He saw Miranda and Thane and Grunt, pausing as rifles fell from nerveless claws and swarms collapsed twitching to the ground.

**"Virus,"** Harbinger grated again in his emotionless monotone. **"What do you hope to accomplish here?"**

Alex grinned beneath his helmet and turned luminescent eyes onto the Reaper before him. "I'm assuming direct control, bitch."

He slammed his hands into the console and sent his tendrils crawling across it, digging through the machinery without error and ripping it apart, destroying Harbinger's only way of maintaining contact. The image shimmered and cracked away in a burst of static, and Alex laughed. He turned fragmented eyes outward, touched the consciousness of the mindless Collectors, and turned them towards the husks crawling out of the ductwork.

It was time to clean house.

* * *

Shepard lowered the Widow in disbelief as the Collector she had been fighting suddenly froze in place. They had _all_ frozen. The yellow faded from their eyes for a handful of heartbeats, and they stood there like living statues. And then the glow flickered back to life and they raised their weapons and…

…and tore through the husks and scions coming up the hallway. Shepard watched as the squad of Collectors previously hell-bent on her death turned their backs on her and advanced on the Reaper forces, which seemed disoriented and confused and not entirely sure whether or not they should be fighting back. Within moments the scions were destroyed and the husks defeated, and the Collectors continued down the hallway as if Shepard was not even there.

"You guys saw that too, right?" Shepard asked Garrus and Tali as they stood from cover, just as confused as she was.

"Err… yes?" Tali asked, uncertain.

"Looks like Mercer found the general," Garrus added, and Shepard's eyes widened.

She pulled up her omni-tool and immediately contacted Alex. If this was what it looked like… "Alex! Can you hear me?"

"_No need to yell, Shepard."_

Shepard looked up as a Collector with a Particle Beam ambled in, turned and stared right at her, before raising its weapon and disintegrating a husk that had crawled from the floor. "Alex, the Collectors—"

"—_are doing a little spring cleaning. Is it spring? I'm not really sure. What month is it?"_

"Alex!" Shepard hissed, feeling twitchy as the Collectors began appearing in droves. There were a lot more of them in this one spot now than she'd seen in the entirety of her travels.

"_Oh fine. You have absolutely no sense of humor."_ Alex paused, and Shepard thought she heard clicking. _"I found the general, in case that wasn't blatantly obvious. I also may have… hmm, how to phrase this delicately… I _may_ have taken control of the station."_

Shepard lowered her arm in shock. This was either the greatest thing that could have happened, or the worst. "I can see that."

"_And _I_ can see _you_," _She could almost hear the grin in Alex's voice as one of the Collectors stared right at her. _"You'll catch flies like that, Shepard."_

Shepard closed her mouth from where it had fallen open and shook her head. "Right. This… changes things up a bit."

"_If you wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes, I can clear out the rest of the husks and meet you there."_

"Won't the Collectors attack us if you leave that room?" Shepard asked nervously.

"_Nah. I'm patched in to their Hive Mind now, Shepard. It's… really quiet, actually. Kind of creepy."_

Shepard shook her head and started walking, still tense and eyeing the Collectors that moved aside warily. She didn't trust them, and she didn't trust Alex's ability to keep control of them. Not to say she didn't trust _Alex_… which she did… sort of… but they were _Collectors_.

Then she had a thought. "Alex, do you know what the Collectors were doing with the colonists?"

There was such a significant pause before Alex replied that she was about to repeat the question, and then she heard his voice. It sounded almost unnerved. Almost. _"Yeah…" _

"Well?" She had a lot of theories, but she was pretty sure she could handle whatever it was they were doing. Making a weapon, maybe, or studying the human anatomy… or making a new Collector race like they'd done to the Protheans, perhaps.

"_They're making a Reaper."_

Shepard froze in horror. They were _melting _humans down and using their genetic material to make a _Reaper?_ Well… she supposed it could be worse. She isn't sure _how,_ but...

"_And it's awake."_

Shit.

* * *

**A/N: **_Mmph, some of you guessed this would happen, even when I tried to be all sneaky and mysterious about it. But the whole story revolved around this scene where Alex takes over the Collector base, and so la de da here it is! I actually wrote this scene on my iPhone like a week ago, and it's been taunting me ever since. We're getting closer to the end of the ME2 story arc! Woo! _

_Eheh. *ahem* Yes.  
_


	42. Chapter 42

Alex clasped his hands behind his back as he stared at the inactive Reaper larvae suspended from the ceiling. Shepard blanched at his side, grip tightening on the Widow, and Garrus frowned.

"_Keelah…_" Tali whispered, staring with wide purple eyes up at the half-completed Reaper.

Alex agreed. The combined genetic material of countless human beings was being pumped into that Reaper shell, and it was _still_ barely half finished. If they hadn't stopped the Collectors, how many more humans would they have abducted? Millions, most likely. Perhaps more.

"How are we supposed to destroy that thing?" Tali asked incredulously, staring at the massive black skull of an eerily human-shaped Reaper.

Why the _hell _did it look like a human? Was this some kind of mind-trick Harbinger wanted to play on humanity?

"The tubes feeding into the Reaper larvae seem to be a vulnerable point," EDI pointed out, and all eyes shifted to the glowing orange tubes pumping into the thing. Shepard raised the Widow and shot the tubes with one round each, making them shatter.

Alex cocked his head as the Reaper seemed to lurch forward without its restraints, trembling once, and then collapsed into the abyss beneath it. He stepped up to the ledge and peered down, whistling at the massive drop and the vanishing baby Reaper far below.

He turned his head in time to see Shepard pulling up part of the core from the ground and installing an explosive, and his eyes widened. "Whoa there, Shepard," Alex protested. "The Collectors are under control; you don't have to blow the place."

Shepard just stared at him. "This place is an abomination, Alex. They killed _thousands_ of humans here. We have to destroy it to be sure the Reapers don't come back and pick up where they left off."

Alex growled, clenching his fists. "Does that make _me_ an abomination, Shepard? _I've_ killed thousands of humans too. Why don't you strap an explosive to my chest while you're at it?"

Shepard frowned. "Alex," she began slowly, "we came here to _destroy_ the Collector base. That didn't change just because you took Harbinger's place." She went rigid as the claws crawled from his skin, and she stood slowly, fingers loose on the Widow. "Stand down, Alex."

Alex flexed his claws, staring at her. "You need the Collectors, Shepard. You'll need their technology, their weapons, their ships, their army. When the Reapers come, you'll _need_ them. I have complete control of this station; I can _help you_, Shepard."

"And what happens if you get killed?" Shepard shot back. "The Collectors will be loose, and no one else could take control like you have. I won't take that chance, Alex. Stand. Down."

It would be so easy to cross the distance and knock her away. He could have the explosive disarmed and destroyed before she could get back to her feet. He flexed his claws again and took a step forward. She wasn't thinking logically. She was going to need him and the Collectors in the coming battles.

"You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Shepard," Alex tried again, and then Shepard's omni-tool lit up and Joker's voice came through.

"_I've got the Illusive Man on the com, Commander. Patching him through."_

Alex cocked a brow as a hologram of a man shimmered into view. He'd never seen Timmy boy personally, but even from the back Alex could tell this was a man used to getting his way.

"Good work taking control of the base, Shepard," he praised. Alex didn't trust his voice. "The technology we could find there will be a great boon in coming to understand the Reapers."

Shepard growled. "I'm destroying this base, Cerberus. And there's nothing to _understand_ about the Reapers. They're sick, and they're twisted, and we need to make sure no one can try and finish what they started here."

Alex opened his mouth to argue when he heard it. It was like… groaning metal. He saw Shepard and Garrus both stare wide-eyed past him and didn't have a chance to turn before something sharp and most certainly _not_ a Collector jammed through his back and impaled the ground. He stared at the claw nailing him to the floor and turned his head to see the huge glowing red eyes of the Reaper larvae glaring at him.

_Dammit._

* * *

"Alex!" Shepard scrambled to some cover, frantically lining up a shot with one of the Reaper's eyes and fired all three rounds into the thing. The Reaper groaned and pulled back, flinging Alex aside where he rolled and collided with some cover on the far side of the area, denting the metal. She didn't have time to check and see if he was all right before the Reaper was slashing at them with one of its huge arms, sending them scurrying for different cover.

She glanced over the cover and saw the Reaper's mouth gaping, a swirling red energy gathering there. "Get down!" she yelled, and Garrus and Tali ducked behind cover just as a massive energy spike lanced through the air and slammed into the cover.

She jumped up to line up a shot but the Reaper was gone, only the tips of its clawed fingers still holding onto the ledge. She hesitated, and then jumped away as the Reaper appeared behind her, screeching. Shepard vaulted the cover and aimed another shot, missing the eye and hitting the metal of its face instead.

"Aim for its eyes!" Shepard yelled, and Garrus was more successful with his own shot than she had been as Tali switched her shotgun for a pistol.

_How are we supposed to kill a damn _Reaper_?_ Shepard wondered frantically as she saw the Reaper preparing its beam again. "Tali! Get to cover!"

"Trying, Shepard!" Tali shouted back, hurrying for the other side of the low wall. Shepard's eyes widened. She wasn't going to make it.

Shepard jumped over the cover and grabbed Tali's hand, pulling her with all her might so she tumbled head-over-heels and landed on the other side of the cover.

And then the Reaper fired.

The red energy slammed into Shepard from behind, and it felt as if she was being burned from the inside out. Her shields flicked and shorted out with a _snap_, and then she fell to the ground, screaming, because this was _worse_ than death and she just wanted it to _stop_.

"Shepard!" Garrus was yelling over the com, and Shepard could just barely hear him over her own screams. And then, mercifully, the beam stopped and Shepard slumped to the ground, unable to stand.

_Get up_, she told herself, gritting her teeth against the pain. _Get. UP._

She rolled to her side and her eyes widened. The Reaper's claws were coming right for her. There was no way she was going to be able to move aside in time, not with the way her body was jerking in remembered pain. She clenched her eyes shut and braced for the impact.

She heard the sound of metal slamming through stone and a rather irritated growl from above her, and she opened her eyes. Alex stood braced above her, biomass shield held in front of his head where the tip of the Reaper's claw had punched through. He slid back a step and glanced down at Shepard through glowing yellow eyes.

"For the love of _God_, woman!" Alex shouted. "Get _back!_"

Adrenaline coursed through her and Shepard forced her body into motion, scrambling for cover and feeling Garrus and Tali pull her over.

"Son of a bitch!" Alex was yelling, and Shepard pulled herself up enough to see over the edge of cover as Alex grabbed the Reaper's claw with his free hand and _pulled_. The Reaper screeched, yanking back, and jerking Alex forward a step with its momentum before he dug in his heels and began walking backwards.

The Reaper groaned and red energy gathered in its mouth and eyes moments before Alex growled low and _heaved_, pulling the Reaper's arm out of its socket with a crack of metal and snapping circuits. The light died out in a surprised shriek and Alex stumbled back, dropping the arm where it fell to the ground and off the ledge. Shepard found her brain again and fired off another three shots at the Reaper's face without aiming, two clipping its skull but the third finding its way into the thing's left-most eye. The eye burst and shattered like glass, and the Reaper reared back, holding onto the platform with its remaining arm as it screamed.

Alex's body crawled with biomass, armor melting off to be replaced with his massive blade and he _ran_. Faster than she could follow with her eyes, faster than she could ever hope to see again, he _leapt_ through the air and time slowed to a crawl. The Reaper looked up at the human-shaped bioweapon aimed at its head, bladed arm pulled back like a throwing spear, and opened its mouth in a burst of red energy.

Shepard let the barrel of the Widow fall as they watched Alex connect with the Reaper's head like a cannonball, blade digging into the remaining two eyes just as the shockwave lanced from the Reaper's maw. She ducked down to dodge the blast and heard the groaning of the Reaper before it was abruptly silenced.

She stood from cover once the shockwave dissipated and she watched, wide-eyed, as the Reaper lashed out, crushing its shoulders into the walls and pulling apart the platform it held onto with its one remaining arm. The red lights flickered out and dimmed, Alex with his blade elbow-deep into the Reaper's head. She could see familiar ebony and crimson tendrils crawling over the Reaper's frame, digging into its skull and pulling apart its hull as if it were made of paper.

Was he… Shepard sucked in a breath. Was he _consuming_ the Reaper? Was that even _possible?_

"Alex," she breathed, watching as the Reaper's claws loosened on the platform and it began to tilt dangerously backwards. "Alex!"

Alex turned at her voice, piercing her with one silver-blue eye, before they both plummeted off the edge and into the abyss.

Shepard stared, frozen, as the base began to rumble around them, chunks falling from the ceiling where the Reaper had struck the walls in its death throes. She took a step towards the ledge before stopping again, staring at the edge with wide-eyes. A taloned hand grabbed her arm and pulled, and she jerked in surprise.

"Shepard, the room's coming down around us. We have to go," Garrus told her, shaking her arm. "He's _gone_, Shepard."

Shepard shook her head, but let him pull her backwards towards the exit. She stared at the core and the inactive explosive at the center of the platform, and then turned and ran after Garrus and Tali.

_Just in case. Just in case._

They skipped around falling obstacles as they ran for the ship, Shepard pulling up her omni-tool as they ran.

"Joker! Is everyone on the ship?"

"Everyone's here, Commander. Get your ass out of there; the whole base is falling apart!"

_Not everyone_.

Shepard took a sharp turn and almost ran into a group of Collectors and sucked in a breath. They stared at her through unblinking yellow eyes before standing aside, weapons lowered. Shepard bolted past them, not letting them have a chance to reconsider. She saw the Normandy hovering in the hangar bay and she jumped, Garrus and Tali catching her arms and pulling her aboard. She leaned on the wall and watched as the hangar collapsed in on itself, burying the entrance in rubble.

"Shepard," Tali broke in, sounding nervous, rubbing her hands together. "Did… did you arm the explosive?"

Shepard stared at the retreating base as the Normandy headed back for the relay. The Collectors were trapped on the station now. Their ship was destroyed, their base all but broken in on itself, the Reaper—

"No," Shepard whispered. "No. I didn't." She turned to stare at Tali, who nodded briefly in understanding. Garrus' mandibles twitched, and he put a hand on her shoulder before leaving her and Tali alone.

Shepard turned and followed him into the CIC, stopping short when she saw everyone gathered around waiting for her.

Miranda gave her a wide, relieved smile, and stepped forward. "You did it, Commander."

Shepard shook her head, trying to smile and failing. "_We_ did it, Miranda."

Kasumi peered around her and stepped up, looking worried. "Er, Shep? Where's Lexi?"

All eyes were on her now, and Shepard straightened up to match their stares.

"He… didn't make it."

She didn't really believe he was dead. She couldn't. But that fall had been so high… and the base had been in the middle of collapsing…

She cleared her throat and spoke again in a firmer voice, hands idly finding the grip of the Black Widow on her back. "He did what had to be done, and saved millions of lives doing it." A smile twitched at her lip. "I suppose… Alex Mercer is a hero."

* * *

**A/N: **_Why yes. Yes I did just update at 10 in the friggin morning. Stupid plot bunnies.__  
_


	43. Chapter 43

**Note: **_This is the second chapter I updated in a row. Make sure you read the previous one first._

* * *

"_Hey, I know this guy."_

"_Mercer, Alex J. Closest living relative, Mercer, Dana A."_

"_He's Blacklight."_

**We are the Harbinger of your perfection.**

"_Yeah? Well now he's ex-Blacklight."_

"_Sound familiar?"_

**You could have been useful.**

"_You're not human…"_

**You are an insect.**

"_You're the Blacklight virus."_

**Defiler.**

"_Killer."_

**Imperfect.**

"_Monster."_

**Wasted potential.**

"_Terrorist."_

**Insignificant; a pawn in a game outside your comprehension.**

"_I'm all these things."_

**You have ended a nation. You have become one of us.**

"_Something less than human…"_

**Outsider.**

"…_but also something more."_

A silver-blue eye opened in the darkness, the iris twitching and contracting like a camera shutter. Swirls of black and flame crawled across his face, reforming, reconstructing, _rebuilding_. He can hear so many voices… so many whispers in the shadows…

"_It doesn't have to think about it, it doesn't have to want to. It warps reality just by BEING THERE."_

**You are weak.**

"_No. They're all dead. All dead. Except me."_

"_Even a dead god can dream."  
_

Metallic claws dig into the ground as blue circuit lines pulse in time with a heartbeat that isn't there. Everything feels wrong. Heavy. He tries to lift an arm and it's like trying to stop the earth from turning. He remembers… falling. The metallic taste of copper and iron and blood. The memories of a million lost lives assaulting him as the world fell to pieces around him. Metal and flesh and steel and tendons melted down and pulled inside, adding a symphony of silver and music to the chorus of screams in his head.

"_Nothing will protect you from me."_

**We do not fear you.**

"_Not men…"_

**We are beyond your understanding.**

"_Not weapons…"_

**We are unknowable.**

"_Not armor."_

**We are undefinable.**

"_I'm gonna find out who did this to me…"_

He pushed himself to his hands and knees, the twisted and empty hull of the Reaper larvae jagged under his claws, and he laughed. He looked up at the yellow gazes gathered around him, staring, waiting, watching, meeting their stares with a single mechanical eye, circuits glowing faintly in place of veins.

"_...and I'm gonna make them pay."_

**We shall see.**

* * *

**END OF ME2 STORY ARC  
**

* * *

**A/N: **_Ta da! Biomechanical!Alex is going to be badass, I can just tell. Man I wish I was a better artist so I could draw him with his mechanical eye... T_T I always figured Alex had enough people in his consciousness to make him basically immune to Indoctrination, and he's had experience with Harbinger in his head already once or twice. Consuming the Reaper would definitely have given him some nifty new abilities, considering its the first time he's successfully had a chance to assimilate a 'mechanical' creature. I must now think of them, since I have officially screwed canon over and created a monster.  
_

_This really isn't where I was expecting the story to go, but it wrote itself this way and I hope it's not disappointing. I, for one, am incredibly excited about working Alex into ME3, especially now that he's eaten a Reaper and Shepard thinks he might be dead. Knowing Alex, his re-entry into the story is going to be flashy and dramatic. *sigh...*  
_

_The story will pick up again with the events of ME3, barring a transition chapter or two (I might skip those and get right into the action, as I am wont to do). I'll just tack on ME3 to the end of this story rather than make a whole new one. Hmm... I'll need to revise the summary...  
_

_Over 600 reviews. I don't even... I love you all. Even those of you who leave reviews like "L2 rite nub." Ok, I didn't get any reviews like that, and I'm glad, but if I did I'd still love you. A little less than everyone else, perhaps... but I'd still give you cookies now and then.  
_

* * *

_**Note Note: **Taking a brief 'vacation' from CDC for a bit. I have a lot of non-ff projects I'm juggling at once, not to mention the work I'd postponed in order to get this out as fast as I did. I am in NO WAY abandoning this, just taking a little break until I get my act together. Here, have a milkshake to ease the pain.  
_


	44. An Update

Greetings, my motley audience of rabid fans. All two of you. I know you've been waiting so patiently for me to get my act together and put up the first part of the ME3 story arc, but I come bearing tidings. Not _bad_ tidings, exactly, or _sad_ tidings, but tidings nonetheless.

I've received a contract from a publisher for my first novel, _Reign of Shadow_, and today I made the decision to put everything else on hold and get that edited and ready for submission. So, my dear avid readers of all that is Hyliian, this means I'll be stepping away from FanFiction for a while. I'll be posting a similar statement on my profile, for those who aren't following CDC.

Until I get everything sorted, I'll be listing this story as "complete," since the first half is, in all actuality, _complete_ and just waiting for its sequel / continuation.

I know, I know… I hate authors who fake you out with a chapter that isn't really a chapter (like this one), but it seemed like the best way to get the word out since not everyone who's been PMing me wondering if I'm continuing or not bothers to check my profile first. I'll still check in from time to time, in the case of any lingering PMs or questions or Beta requests / requests for story help or reviews.

There are loads of awesome crossovers out there to hold your attention until I come back, and I beg you to go and give them credit. Especially the ones _without_ 500+ reviews. Some of those little short things with only 1 or 2 reviews (or in the rare cases, _no _reviews) are a million times better than anything I could ever write, and they deserve some love.

So allow me to wish you a fond, temporary farewell, and in the words of Christopher Paolini…

_Sé onr sverdar sitja hvass! _May your swords stay sharp!

* * *

_EDIT:_ I didn't intend any subliminal messaging by picking Paolini as a quote. Personally I liked all four books (although yes, the wait times were horrible), and I just wanted to use a saying from one of my favorite writers. So... no jinxing intended! Just me being a fantasy dragon fangirl.


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